Reversing Course
by lilyevansJan30
Summary: Harry's playing Quidditch and Ginny's joined the Aurors. When she moves in next door to Harry, will years of irritation give way to something else?
1. Moving in, Moving on?

A/N: First off, I'm not abandoning Servant of Death; it's challenging me and I'm enjoying writing it, I actually finally finished the outline of that story's arc, so it's going along well. But the other day I got a PM asking me if I'd ever write another AU rom/com in the style of In Case of Emergency. Until now, I've always thought that fic was a "one and done" - I didn't think I had another similar idea that would work for me. But then Harry and Ginny started talking in my head, which they haven't done in a long time, and in less than a day, I had a title, a general plot, and part of a first chapter. I have almost no idea where this is going; Emergency was originally intended to be just 2-3 chapters and look what happened there. But it's fun to write and it's a good way to take a break from SoD; I plan to go back and forth writing both stories, so wish me luck.

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Ginny frowned at the crowd of witches loitering around the building's entrance. They seemed to have multiplied since her last trip upstairs, and now she had to weave around them just to approach the front door. "Are they always here like this?" she muttered to Hermione. Indeed, several looked to be nearly camping out on the street; Ginny saw blankets, a few folding chairs, and –_ Merlin – _bunches of flowers and big glossy photographs apparently waiting for signatures. Ginny rolled her eyes when she caught sight of the newest poster; her mum had hung it right in the kitchen at the Burrow, as if having the real thing slouching in and out with her brother wasn't enough. And now they were going to be neighbors, and it seemed like Ginny was going to be forced to navigate a minefield of gushing witches every time she wanted to enter her own flat.

"Only when the team is in town," said Hermione. "If it bothers you that much, you should have taken a flat near me."

"You're too far from the Ministry; I like to be able to walk sometimes," Ginny said. She stepped over a box of chocolates that looked to have come from her brothers' shop and barely resisted the urge to kick it aside. "Besides, my mum likes it that I'm living close to Ron. Seems to think it will be safer or something." She approached the front door and pulled out her wand, trying to ignore the stirrings of interest from those watching. At least the wards were extremely secure – thanks to Bill – and wouldn't allow anyone in unless they had the right to be there. Of course, those same wards prevented anyone from Apparating directly inside, which was why Ginny had had to pass by the Arrows' fan club no less than seven times while she moved things into her new home. Sighing with relief that this was the final trip, Ginny opened the door and beckoned Hermione inside.

Inside, Ginny had to admit that the building was nice; professional Quidditch players wouldn't live anywhere shoddy. Her Auror trainee salary wouldn't have been enough to cover the rent on her flat – the smallest in the building – if not for the fact that Ron was living for free as Harry's roommate and making up the balance of Ginny's rent with his own trainee salary. It was irritating for sure, but there weren't many magical buildings within walking distance of the Ministry, and most of the others were dumps. Ginny had her pride, but she wasn't stupid. In a year she'd be making enough money to pay her own rent anyway; she could certainly manage a year beholden to her brother.

Unfortunately, that also meant admitting she was beholden to Harry as well.

It was that ire that had led her to turn down – politely – his offer to help her move her things into her flat, and which now caused her to assure Hermione – again politely – that she really just wanted to rest, and wasn't interested in walking down the hall to Ron and Harry's place for the supper her mum had sent over. Ginny couldn't begrudge Hermione's desire to spend time with her brother now that they were finally living in the same city; it had been a long year for both of them after the war. She just didn't particularly feel like spending her first night in her own place playing third wheel, either to Ron and Hermione **or** Ron and Harry. The fan-girls outside her building might think she was crazy for turning down supper with Harry Potter, but Ginny had spent her entire life holding her own against her many, teasing older brothers, and against their best-mates-who-acted-like-brothers. Now, she wanted a night alone to revel in the fact that there wasn't a brother or his best mate in sight. No taking the mickey, no enduring jokes about whom she might be dating, no listening to far to much bloke talk for her liking.

Did she have a chip on her shoulder about it? Sometimes, probably, Ginny admitted to herself. Bill had said as much at the last family dinner when it had taken only a single comment from Fred about the sight of Ginny's bare legs for her to stomp up to her bedroom to change out of her dress back into a pair of sweatpants – after hexing Fred first. She'd told Bill to bugger off, pointing out that after letting 99 comments roll off her back, she was entitled to let the 100th hack her off.

She was eighteen years old now, dammit. A graduate of Hogwarts with more Newts than most of her brothers ever got, a job, a flat, a grown-up life. She was no longer the naïve first year who needed to be rescued from the Chamber by her brother and his best friend, no longer the annoying little sister everyone still thought needed to be child-minded every second (okay, she could admit that was an exaggeration, but the nice thing about being alone was that no one could call her on it).

She'd visit Harry and Ron tomorrow, thank Harry again for his offer of help, and probably snag some of her mum's leftovers, if Ron had left any. Tonight, she wanted to sit alone with a glass of wine and just . . . be.

Her moment of peace lasted only twenty minutes before there was a pounding on her door.

Cursing to herself, Ginny put down the vase she'd been unwrapping from its packing paper and went to the door. No use trying to pretend she wasn't home; this was a magical building and anyone on the other side of the door wouldn't be fooled. It was probably Ron anyway, coming to check up on her.

Instead, a sea of maleness, all broad shoulders, and fitted jerseys, and carefully messy hair pulled back to be clear of bright eyes, greeted her. Apparently, the Arsenal Arrows Quidditch team had styled itself the building's welcoming committee.

Ginny couldn't miss the murmurs of appreciation from the group, and she tried not to blush. She _was not _a fan-girl, not at all, but she also wasn't dead, and several of the men standing before her were undeniably attractive.

A tall blonde in front held out his hand. "You're Ron's sister Ginny, aren't you? Welcome to the building. I'm . . ."

"Damacles Clarke, I know," said Ginny coolly. She definitely wasn't the type to play dumb just to keep a bloke talking to her. 'Dam Clarke,' as he was known, was the starting Keeper and captain of the Arrows – and a notorious ladies man. Ginny looked at the other men standing in her doorway. "And that's Adam Ramsey, Kipling Cross, and Wilder Rich, your Chasers, and the Beaters, Coelus and Sors Vincenti." Ginny raised her eyebrows at Dam and he smirked back at her.

"Impressive, Miss Weasley. But you forgot our newest starter." Dam moved to the side. "You must know our Seeker, Harry Potter. He lives with your brother, after all." Dam raised his eyebrows.

Harry looked more or less the same as the last time Ginny had seen him, at that same family dinner where she'd hexed Fred. His hair was a bit shorter over his eyes; Quidditch players needed to be able to see after all, and he was wearing an Arsenal's hoodie that one of the witches outside probably would have paid Galleons just to touch.

"Hey, Ginny," he said. He peered around her into the flat. "Looks like you managed to get yourself moved in on your own. Did the witches out front give you much trouble?" He turned to his teammates. "Don't underestimate Ginny. She insisted on moving into her flat without using the private back entrance." He grinned. "Probably wanted to size up the competition outside, ehh Gin?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Of course, Harry was already teasing her, that was all anyone in her family had done as soon as she'd decided to move into this building, as if the presence of a bunch of professional Quidditch players was the big draw, and not its proximity to work and her mum's preference. Not that Ginny had chosen this flat simply to make her mum happy either. It had been her own, thoughtful decision, no matter what anyone else assumed. She didn't say any of this, of course, but focused instead on something else Harry had said.

"Private back entrance? No one told me about a private back entrance." Honestly, what was wrong with Ron and Harry?

"It's a secure Apparition point inside the wards off the alley behind the building," Adam Ramsey supplied helpfully. He seemed rather eager to insert himself into the conversation and Ginny saw Dam's mouth tighten in amusement. He interrupted the Chaser.

"But you won't be cleared to use it until you've lived here for six weeks. It's a security measure to make sure no one living here has . . . nefarious intentions." He raised his eyebrows at her, as if to suggest that he might have some nefarious intentions of his own, and that they could involve Ginny, if she was willing.

Adam seemed oblivious to his captain's innuendo. "Yeah, like stealing our things from the laundry and trying to sell them for profit or slipping love potions into the water supply." He shook his head. "Those witches can be crazy."

"Wizards too," added Kipling with a grin. "And a few of them are hot."

Ginny shook her head in annoyance. "I've only lived here a day, I couldn't have used that entrance anyway."

"I could have taken all your stuff that way, and you could have met me from the front," said Harry calmly. "Or I'm sure Bill could have given you temporary access. He set up all the security here, you know."

Ginny hated Harry's patronizing tone, the same one her brothers used whenever she made something difficult for herself, just to prove a point. She rounded on him. "Why didn't you tell me that before I practically broke a leg trying to weave through a maze of love-crazed witches and all their crap?" She remembered something. "Watch out - at least one of them had a box of Fred and George's love potion chocolates."

Harry nodded. "We know, the wards are set to neutralize anything from their shop. And, I did tell you, when I asked if you needed help moving in, remember?" His voice was overly patient.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the twin Beaters watching them and whispering to each other. Honestly, were professional Quidditch players any better than their fans?

"You just asked if I wanted help; you didn't say anything about a back entrance." Ginny knew she was being petulant, but she couldn't stop herself.

Harry raised his hands in supplication. "Sorry, Gin. Next time I'll make sure I'm more explicit with my offers." He grinned suddenly. "But, aren't you going to invite us in for a drink, while we welcome you to the building?"

Seven large men would take up nearly all the open space in Ginny's small flat; she didn't even have enough places for that many people to sit. She shook her head. "I'm still unpacking," she said. "Besides, I don't have anything to offer you."

"Oh, I doubt that," said Damacles. He waved his wand, and a bottle and eight cups appeared. "But no worries, we brought the Firewhiskey. And you look like you could use a break anyway."

"Yeah, and I don't want to go back to my place just yet," added Harry. "Ron and Hermione have been apart for a long time, and he's pants at Silencing Charms."

"Too much information, Harry," said Ginny with a sigh. She stepped back from her doorway and gestured the team inside. "Please try not to step on anything."

Harry ruffled Ginny's hair as he passed and Ginny bit down her irritation. At least the Firewhiskey looked expensive. She shut the door. "I get the first shot."

Ginny's lack of seating didn't seem to deter anyone from getting comfortable; those Arrows players who didn't fit on the sofa or in one of her two kitchen chairs plopped down on the floor, leaving Ginny to remove the carefully folded pile of linens from her overstuffed chair and sit herself there. She didn't mind; it was the most comfortable piece of furniture she owned. But then Harry walked over and nudged her arm.

"Hey, scoot over, the floor's hard."

Ginny glared at him. "Not my problem." She made a show of spreading out.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ginny, move over. You know there's enough room."

Unfortunately, Ginny did know this; the chair's identical twin sat in the Burrow's sitting room, and Ginny herself had forced one brother or another to share on more than one occasion. It was a little cramped, but doable. She shrugged. "My chair, my rules," she said. Better to establish these things early on, or soon she'd find her flat overrun with overgrown boys looking for food, clean towels, or a place to crash while a roommate got busy.

Harry shrugged, and then made a show of sitting down on the floor right in front of the chair and leaning back against it.

Ginny debated kicking him; if they'd been at the Burrow she would have. But his teammates were all watching them with a little too much avid interest, so she leaned back instead, determined to ignore Harry for a while. Instead, she looked at Dam. "I think you offered me a drink?"

Dam grinned and poured Ginny a healthy shot before passing the bottle around. Once the room was a little fuzzy around the edges from the smoke pouring out of various ears and mouths, the captain leaned forward.

"So, Ginny, I assume it's a good guess that you're familiar with Quidditch? Or does your familiarity only extend to attractive Quidditch players?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and she groaned.

"I've followed the sport since I was a baby, and I played on my house team at Hogwarts. We won the Quidditch Cup my Fifth Year." She didn't mention that there had been interest from the Holyhead Harpies after she graduated; even her parents didn't know about the meeting with Gwenog Jones. Her family would have been just as surprised to hear Ginny was going to become a professional Quidditch player as they'd been to learn she was joining the Aurors; it was another secret she'd harbored, this one going back to her rescue from the Chamber. Better to let everyone think it was a decision born of her experiences during the war.

"What Ginny isn't telling you is that, although she's regularly a Chaser, she played Seeker in the championship game," said Harry. "Took my place while I was in detention."

The room erupted in laughs and good-natured ribbing of Harry, and Ginny stifled another throb of irritation. She'd never understood why her family thought it so amusing that she had played Seeker in Harry's place during that game, but the story seemed to come up rather often.

Damocles gave her an appraising look.

"You are quite multi-talented, Miss Weasley." He picked up her brand-new training manual from a pile of books on the floor. "And an Auror too?"

"Auror trainee," she corrected him. "I'm starting in the same class as my brother Ron since the department wasn't ready for new recruits before now."

"Harry, you worked your arse off getting it ready, didn't you though?" Kipling Cross was brandishing a second shimmering bottle and began levitating it around the room pouring refills. He took a healthy drink. "No wonder you traded that in for the much better option of playing professional Quidditch."

"No dark wizards here," added Coelus Vincenti. "That's right, just crazy fans," added his brother Sors.

Harry smiled good-naturedly; he'd apparently heard this all before. "I think I can handle a few overly enthusiastic witches," he said. He nudged Ginny. "Should be a breeze, after Romilda, right?"

Ginny grinned "As long as we keep my brother away from strange boxes of chocolate." The second drink had relaxed her, and she felt her annoyance fade. She looked around the room. "Are those witches outside ever a real problem?"

"Nah, not usually," said Dam. "Sometimes we'll have one try to sneak into the building disguised as a delivery person or something, but the wards always catch 'em."

"They can get handsy, though, if we ever have to use the front entrance." Chaser Wilder Rich had been quiet until now. Harry barked a laugh.

"Ahh, Dam, so that's why you always like the front door – it's a chance to get some action!" The room exploded again and Dam threw a pillow at Harry. "Watch it, newbie, you haven't had your initiation night yet." He looked around "Do we have a date for that?"

Adam Ramsey answered. "After our next road trip, a week from Saturday."

Dam nodded. "Good, that will give you all of Sunday to recover, Potter. And you're going to need it."

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure Ginny here will look out for me afterwards." He nudged her leg. "Right Gin?"

This time, she really did kick him. "What makes you assume I'd want to do that?"

Harry shrugged again. "Isn't that what little sisters do? You've taken care of everyone else, one time or another." He ticked names off on his hand. "Bill after his stag night, Charlie, after Bill's stag night, each of the twins, I think even Ron, last Christmas, right? Only Percy and I are left, and I wouldn't hold out for Percy." He gave her an expectant look.

"I've minded Charlie twice," Ginny muttered. "It wasn't pretty." She sighed. "I'll think about it, if I'm not busy that night." She didn't bother pointing out that he wasn't really her brother.

"Thatta girl," said Harry, just as Dam smirked and said "I'm sure I can find something to keep you busy instead." Harry snorted and reached up to give Dam a high five, and Ginny had enough. She waved her wand and shot sparks out of the end with a bang.

"All right, party's over. I really do need to finish unpacking." She tried to make herself sound authoritative.

No one paid her any mind at first, and she huffed to herself before lifting her wand again. Harry saw her and jumped up quickly. "Let's go, everyone, Ginny's about to use her wand on us, and trust me, you don't want her to have to do that. She's scarier than she looks."

Ginny tried not to be annoyed that the team listened to Harry; at least they were all leaving. He was the last one out the door. "Thanks," she muttered. "Hope it's safe for you to go back home."

"Trust me, Ron finished ages ago," he said with a laugh, "although I'm sure you don't want to know that."

"I don't," Ginny agreed. "I just want some peace and quiet."

"We're leaving for a road trip tomorrow afternoon; it will be nice and quiet for a while," said Harry. He ruffled her hair again. "Good luck with training . . . it's going to be tough, but I know you can handle it." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but after a second gave a tiny shake to his head. "Don't let Ron blow himself up, at least not the first day," he finished.

Ginny nodded. "I won't. Not the first day." She gave him a real smile. "Good night, Harry."

He smiled back. "Night, Ginny."


	2. First Day

With the Arrows on the road, the apartment building was much quieter the following day, which meant Ginny was able to get the remainder of her things unpacked. It was also quiet the day after that, and she hung all her pictures and baked some cookies. It was quiet on the third day too, and Ginny walked down the hall with the cookies to see if Ron and Hermione were there and wanted to join her for supper.

They were, and they did, and the three of them sat companionably around the kitchen table. Ginny examined the flat; she'd only been there a handful of times since Ron had moved in, and never without Harry there. The sofa and wireless looked brand new; the former adorned at either end with matching Gryffindor blankets – her mum's standard "finishing Hogwarts" gift. Ginny had unpacked her own just that morning. Quidditch posters from the Cannons and Arrows competed for wall space, separated, Ginny was surprised to see, by one of newest Harpies team. She surreptitiously eyed the third Chaser, who appeared, in Ginny's opinion, just a wee bit wobbly on her broom and then almost choked on her pumpkin juice when an enormous photo suddenly winked into existence above the mantle. It was Harry's individual Arrow's photo – Ginny had seen enough of them clutched in eager hands outside – and as she watched, the image gave an embarrassed smile, looked off to the left as if listening to something, and then turned forward again with a cocky wink.

"You actually let him put that up?" she asked her brother. She glanced at the Harpies poster, which suddenly seemed less a show of support and more something to ogle. _I'd never quite thought Harry would . . ._

"Dam put it up. Temporary sticking charm." Ron waved his wand and the photo disappeared again. "Apparently they do it for all new team members." He shrugged. "It's supposed to keep track of how many women Harry brings back here his first year on the team."

"And how many . . ." Ginny began. She held up her hand. "Actually, don't tell me. I really don't want to know."

"None," Ron said anyway. "At least, not yet. Dam was disappointed, but Harry said he just has higher standards." Ron smirked. "That earned him yet another threat about what's going to happen to him during his hazing night."

Hermione laughed. "Harry needs to learn to keep his mouth shut, at least until after then. Every time he says something they add another drink to his tally."

Ginny groaned. "And I'm apparently minding him afterwards. She looked at Hermione. "Can I hide out at your flat that night?"

"Sure, if you want to," Hermione said, looking up when Ron nudged her.

"If Ginny's there, then we have to be here. Where Harry's going to end up," he said pointedly.

"Ooops," said Hermione. She gave Ginny an apologetic look. "Sorry, Ginny."

Ginny sighed. "Worth a try, I guess." She got up from the table and walked over to the bookshelf. "What are all these things? There were several delicate silver instruments, a small, smudged mirror, and what looked like a fancy Remembrall mounted in a gilt stand.

"Dark detectors and other magical instruments and things," said Ron around a mouthful of pie. "Mostly Harry's, although the Deluminator is mine." He pointed at the slim silver object that Ginny knew he'd gotten from Dumbledore.

Ginny walked closer. "Where did he get all of them?" Some were moving slightly and making humming noises; they all looked rather powerful and mysterious.

Ron shrugged. "Some from Dumbledore, some from work he did this past year, helping Kingsley at the Ministry, some from I don't know where. Said he felt better with them out here, near the front door." He shook his head. "He doesn't say much about it, what he was doing all those months after the war."

"You don't know? I thought you were working there too." Ginny stared at her brother. He and Harry had been living at the Burrow until this past June, going back and forth between the Ministry and Hogwarts, helping to rebuild wherever they were needed. It was an unspoken assumption that both Ron and Harry would be joining the Aurors as soon as the department was reorganized. Ron shook his head.

"He was helping us, but Harry also spent a lot of time off on his own doing things for Kingsley and Gawain Robards, looking for escaped Death Eaters and things. He was always running in and out of meetings and then off to who-knows-where. I'm not sure. He always looked exhausted though."

This was news to Ginny. "He always seemed fine when I saw him." True, the immediate days after Harry had killed Voldemort with another rebounding curse had been tiring and difficult for everyone. Remus and Tonks' funeral had been especially brutal, and Fred's recovery from being nearly crushed by the wall had taken all that first summer; everyone had gathered more often at the Burrow while he was laid up. Ginny's recollection of Harry during that time and over her holiday breaks from Hogwarts was that he'd been about the same as always – joining in the teasing from her brothers, running off with Ron and Hermione every chance they got, helping her mum with the cooking.

She frowned. Had he been quieter than normal? She tried to remember how he'd reacted when she'd told her family she was joining the Aurors over Easter break and realized she wasn't even sure he'd been at the Burrow that day. Everyone else had had a lot to say about it, and it had taken quite a bit of convincing – coupled with some in-person demonstrations using Ron as a partner – for her family to understand how serious she was. But she didn't recall Harry teasing her, not once. He actually hadn't said anything about it at all.

Two weeks later, she'd read on the cover of Quidditch Today that Harry had been named the new starting Seeker for the Arsenal Arrows, one of the strongest teams in the league. He had replaced Dearborne Prescott, the team's only female starter, after she had gotten married and then pregnant in short order after the previous season. He'd moved out of the Burrow within a month, and the next time she'd seen him, he'd laughed harder than anyone when Fred and George used her as an unwitting guinea pig for a new prank. The nine newts running in circles around her legs were only supposed to last for ten minutes, preventing her from moving very far while they sang to the room about how smart she was. But then Harry joked they would be an effective way of keeping Ginny from getting close to a bloke, and Fred had said a spell, and the damn animals didn't leave her alone for another two hours. Harry had called her 'Newt' the entire day, until she'd finally retorted that not everyone could be a hot-shot Quidditch star . She'd shot a spell at the Arrow's poster her mum had just hung in the kitchen, so that Harry's image was suddenly flying in and out of the frame wearing nothing but a pair of bright pink underwear. He'd gone back to calling her Ginny after that, but she hadn't lifted the spell until the end of the day.

"I bet it's nice getting attention for something other than killing Voldemort for once." Hermione's voice broke into Ginny's thoughts, and Ginny realized she'd been staring at one of the Arrows posters for some time." She turned around, intending to make the admittedly snarky response that she bet Harry was probably happy with any kind of attention. But something made her bite back the comment.

"Yeah, I guess," she said. Her brother and Hermione were Harry's best friends; they would know him best. After all, they'd spent a year with him on the run, chasing Horcruxes and years before that getting in all manner of trouble as he's dealt with seemingly yearly attacks on his life. Harry had even been with Ron when he'd rescued her from Tom Riddle and the Basilisk in the Chamber. After that, Ron and Harry went from best mates to being practically inseparable, as least as far as Ginny was concerned. They hadn't pulled back from hanging out with Hermione, it was true, but Ginny felt like she'd barely spent any time with Ron, after that.

But now they were going to be Auror trainees together. Ginny had no illusions that things would go back to the way it had been when they were kids, but she was happy to spend more time with her brother. She looked again at the shelf of dark detectors. Did any of them hold the reason behind Harry's decision? Ginny wasn't sure what most of the were. She shivered suddenly.

"I'm going to the loo, be right back," she said, not waiting for an answer.

At the end of the short hallway, the door to Harry's room stood half open. Ginny paused for a second – she knew it was wrong – and then carefully sidled inside.

Harry's room was disconcertingly neat, belying the years of messes and smells she'd seen strewn across the boys' dormitory and Ron's room at the Burrow. Everything looked new and barely used, even though Ginny knew Harry had lived in the flat for over two months already. The bed was carefully made with fresh linens, his old Firebolt gleamed in a corner as if he'd just polished it the day before. The closet door was closed and not a scrap of clothing or other debris littered the floor. It felt like anyone might have lived there.

She caught sight of his old Hogwarts trunk under the window and smiled at the familiar object. Above it on the wide sill she recognized an elaborate Pensieve flanked by several crystal bottles. Without really thinking about it, Ginny took a step forward, and then another. Her hand was reaching out to pick one up before she realized what she was doing and snatched her arm back. Snooping in Harry's room was one thing; looking into his memories was quite another.

As she was backing towards the door, Ginny's eye landed on the photos on Harry's bedside table. One was familiar to her – his parents, dancing and spinning and grinning up at him, a tiny black-haired baby cradled between them. The other photo was of her family.

Ginny picked it up. She'd never seen it before, but she remembered when it had been taken, just the past Christmas. Everyone was wearing a brand new Weasley sweater and pushing and shoving good naturedly as Molly tried to get them all to face front. Harry was in the photo too, throwing his arm enthusiastically around Ginny over and over again, squeezing her to him in what she remembered was an attempt to throw her off-balance. Her mum had another version of the photo at home; in that one Ron, Ron came up on her other side and together, he and Harry squeezed Ginny completely out of the picture. She had retaliated with several well-placed Bat Bogey Hexes and the photo session had abruptly ended. Ginny wondered why her mum didn't display this photo instead; it was clearly a better shot.

"Ginny? You okay in there?" Ron's voice was magically magnified out in the hallway

Grateful Ron and Hermione couldn't see her, Ginny quickly darted out of Harry's room and into the loo to flush the toilet noisily before returning to the sitting room.

Her subterfuge was wasted; neither of them even looked at her.

"It shouldn't be a late night, we both need to be at the Ministry early tomorrow. It's our first day of training after all." Ginny could hear the deliberate casualness in Ron's voice. She snorted.

"I've known you my entire life, Ron, and you've never cared about being on time for anything except a meal. If you want me out of here so you can have sex with your girlfriend, you just need to say so. I'm not a child." Ginny flashed a silent apology to Hermione for her bluntness. The other witch merely shrugged, looking amused. She had often been a patient listener to Ginny's rants about her brothers, and Hermione's status as Ron's girlfriend hadn't changed anything.

Ron flushed. "I don't know what you mean. It's true, we have to get up early tomorrow."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but decided to let him off the hook. "You're right," she said. "A good night sleep is what we _both _need." She flashed her brother a sly smile. "Make sure you don't stay . . . up . . . too late," she said.

Ignoring his sputtering, Ginny left for her own flat.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny had been to the Ministry dozens of times. She had loved to visit her father when she was a child, not realizing until much later that his tiny, out-of-the-way office was not the most spectacular one in the world. The previous year, she had come with other Hogwarts classmates for memorial services and other events to commemorate and remember those who had fought in the war. And there had been the nearly disastrous after-hours trip at the end of her fourth year, of course. Harry and Ron had almost forbidden her from joining; she still remembered the identically mulish looks on both their faces when she had appeared in the Great Hall with Luna. But in the end, they couldn't very well prevent only her from coming along.

It was a wonder that only Sirius had been killed that night. Ginny herself had almost fallen victim to Voldemort's power during her first year; she should have recognized he was the one behind the entire scheme, especially because she _knew_ Voldemort had been fucking in Harry's head that entire year. Her ire with him for forgetting the Chamber and his annoyance with her for taking over as Seeker when Umbridge had banned him was no excuse; she should have seen it ahead of time. Instead, she had physically healed over the summer and then put the memories of that night in the same compartment in her brain the dealt with her memories of Tom Riddle, that place that was the driving force behind her decision to join the Aurors.

Until now, though, there had always been other who were stronger, more experienced, and more powerful there to help her - Ron and Harry in the Chamber, the Order at the Ministry and Hogwarts, even her mum. Now Ginny had taken the first step towards being the one at the front of the fight, it felt completely different. No wonder this trip to the Ministry felt different. In a few short minutes, she'd be working here.

Next to her, Ron was similarly quiet as they checked in at the visitors' entrance for likely the last time, took their temporary name badges, and caught a crowded elevator to level two. Ginny kept looking around, expecting to see her father or at least another familiar face among the hundreds hurrying along the corridors. They were all strangers though, and to her eyes, no one looked very happy. Ginny suddenly felt very young.

"Ron, Ginny! Wait up!" Ginny turned around and saw the lively voice resolve itself into the familiar face of Parvati Patil, hurrying up the corridor toward them, followed closely by Ernie McMillan, a Hufflepuff she knew Ron and Harry considered rather pompous, but a decent bloke. She relaxed.

"Hi Parvati, Ernie," said Ron. "Joining the Aurors too?"

Parvati nodded and Ernie puffed out his chest importantly; Ginny bit back a laugh at the similarities to Percy.

"They knew to ask all us former DA members, didn't they? And we proved ourselves at the Battle of Hogwarts. I think a number of us joined up." He leaned in. "Pity about Harry though, isn't it? I heard he had a nervous breakdown and they rescinded his offer. It's a surprise the Arrows took him."

Ginny felt Ron stiffen next to her. "That's absolutely not true," she said hotly. "Where the hell did you hear such rubbish? Harry spent the entire last year working his arse off for the Ministry, is it any wonder that he'd want to do something a little less dangerous for a little while?" She gripped her wand tightly; it would not do to hex one of her fellow trainees on the very first day. Ron put his hand on her arm.

"Thanks, Gin," he muttered before turning to Ernie. "Harry made the decision himself not to join the Aurors," he said firmly. "And anything else you might hear is a lie, understand?" Ron's face was as serious as Ginny had ever seen, and she had the feeling he knew more than he was letting on.

After a minute, Ernie nodded. "Sorry, Ron. I . . . didn't realize. I must have heard the wrong information." He shuffled his feet. "See you in training . . . I'm um, I have to use the loo." He turned and hurried off. Ron looked at Parvati.

"And what have you heard?" he demanded.

Parvati shrugged. "Just that Harry joined a team of the hottest Quidditch players in all of Britain, can you blame him?" she said blithely. "Maybe you can help me get tickets to a match? That Kipling Cross is especially dreamy."

Ginny didn't bother telling Parvati that Kipling would not be interested in someone with her anatomy, she was too busy watching her brother out of the corner of her eye. Ron relaxed and nodded. "Sure thing, Parvati, just let me know." As soon as the other witch had walked into the training classroom, Ron turned to Ginny.

"It really was Harry's decision not to join the Aurors, okay?" His face remained serious. Ginny nodded.

"Okay," she agreed. "But there has to be a reason why Ernie thinks otherwise." She crossed her arms. "You might as well tell me before I find out some other way; at least we can have our stories straight."

Ron sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Like I told you last night, Harry worked twice as hard as the rest of us all last year. Some of it was pretty secret, and I think he was on his own a lot. He . . . he got really burnt out."

Ginny nodded; she had guessed as much. "But no nervous breakdown, right?"

"Right," said Ron. "Nothing like that. But the Ministry was pushing him hard to join; they even offered to let him skip training. I think there may have been some raised voices and no silencing charms, while a couple of discussions were going on." He shrugged. "And then the Daily Prophet got wind of things and, you know how they are. Luckily it mostly went away when he joined the Arrows."

"So this all happened right after Easter?" Ginny didn't read the Prophet religiously like Hermione did, but she would have expected to hear something about Harry supposedly having a nervous breakdown. But the weeks after Easter had been particularly brutal for Newt studies, and Ginny had barely left the library. "Did Hermione know? She didn't say anything."

Ron nodded. "She knew; we both decided not to talk about it with anyone, other than to deny the rumors."

_Of course her brother and Hermione would know, and would protect Harry. The three of them were a tight little trio, even now. _Ginny shook off her jealousy; it never did her any good. She nodded. "Then I will too," she said.

HPHPHPHPHP

The following week was both fascinating and terrifying. In the back of her mind, Ginny had assumed that learning to be an Auror would be rather like a DADA class. Despite the inconsistency of instruction, DADA at Hogwarts generally covered a single topic at a time, whether it be dangerous creatures, dark spells, or general defense, before moving on to the next, interspersed with carefully monitored practical lessons. In contrast, from the very first day Auror training felt like an assault. Ginny and Ron and the ten other trainees were inundated with information that they were expected to not only absorb, but put immediately into action; it wasn't uncommon to be shown a defensive spell only once before being paired up to practice on each other. And the curriculum went well beyond the defensive lessons taught at Hogwarts. Ginny and the other DA members had spent a considerable amount of time learning to shield and dodge dangerous spells; now they were expected to take the offense just as often, and the Ministry's health matron soon knew nearly all the trainees on a first-name basis.

The information they learned about Dark Magic and how to identify and capture those who practiced it was also quite beyond anything Ginny had learned. For the first time, she heard the details about Muggle killings, dangerous blood rituals, curses that caused horrible – and irreversible damage. Any illusion she may have harbored that the "big three" Unforgivable curses were the worst of it was rapidly extinguished, and Ginny spent the night after her second day of training sleeping with every lamp in her flat lit, the room glowing with wards every color of the rainbow, lest a Dark Wizard had cursed the very air to suffocate her once the lights went out.

It wasn't until Friday that Harry's name came up again. After four days of learning with almost no rest, on Friday, the trainees were given an entire hour for lunch after a punishing morning learning how to recognize dark magic by the most subtle shifts in the surrounding energy. An enormous tray of sandwiches and sweets awaited them in the break room, and after getting something to eat, all twelve of them collapsed nearly as one.

Ginny was talking Quidditch with Angelina Johnson and Ron was joking with Lee Jordan about a witch Fred had brought home the other night when Terry Boot came and sat down in their midst. So far, the seven former members of the DA had been generally able to hold their own in classes despite being mostly younger than the other five trainees. But just that morning, Terry had answered a question incorrectly in front of the class, and Ginny could tell that the former Ravenclaw was still stewing about it.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that being near a cursed object can actually change your personality, even if you don't touch it? It's not like there were so many cursed textbooks and candlesticks floating around at Hogwarts!" He took an angry bite of his sandwich.

Ron and Ginny exchanged a glance.

"I was cursed by a diary my first year at Hogwarts," said Ginny quietly. It wasn't something she particularly wanted to talk about, but one of her fellow trainees might be called on to save her life one day, and she didn't want to hold back any knowledge that might help.

"Yeah, and I was almost killed by a poisoned bottle of mead," added Ron. "Also at Hogwarts."

Terry waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, but the two of you were always tangled up with Potter, what did you expect? I mean, sure, he taught us some good stuff in the DA, but I heard he went round the bend after that; I'm not sure I trust anything I learned from him." He looked around. "Hey McMillan, weren't you the one who told me Harry Potter was too unstable to become an Auror? Guess all those years running after Voldemort instead of running away from him finally knocked him barmy."

Later on, Ginny allowed that maybe she shouldn't have called Terry a "cockless prat" in quite such a loud voice, as the name stuck until the day Boot left the training program five weeks later. But she refused to take the blame for his leaving in the first place, really it was his attitude towards battling dark magic – _run away, don't face head on – _that likely did him in.

At the time however, the shocked silence and then shouts of laughter at Ginny's outburst did the trick. The subject of Harry Potter and why he wasn't an Auror was dropped; Ginny hoped for good.

Outside the Ministry that evening, Ron gave Ginny a hurried goodbye and half a hug before Apparating away to Hermione's. Ginny wasn't upset; the first week of training had felt like a month and she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her flat with some cheap takeaway and wine and spend the weekend sleeping, reading in bubble baths, and not thinking about all the evil she had apparently signed up to help fight.

Ginny was so looking forward to her night in that she didn't even bother to scowl at the folding chairs lining the walk up to her building or the witches sitting in them. Her flat was quiet, her dinner delicious, and the trashy novel she'd picked up was distracting enough that the hours flew by until Ginny finally waved her wand tiredly at the lamps and curled up to sleep just before 1 a.m., fully intending not to get out of bed until some time the next afternoon.

It was not even eight the next morning when the appearance of all those new folding chairs and witches outside suddenly made sense. The raucous shouting was bad enough, but a few well-placed wards muted them. But when Ginny's entire flat began to shake as if someone was hitting a Bludger against the wall, she lurched out of bed and flung open her door to discover that, in fact, someone was hitting a Bludger against the wall.

Actually, it was two Bludgers, hit by the twin Arrows' Beaters, who were running up and down the hall dodging the three Chasers as they weaved in and out, throwing a Quaffle back and forth. They must have enchanted the balls because none of them seemed to fly terribly fast, but damn, they made a lot of noise. Dam was leaning casually against the wall opposite, critiquing the players' technique, and Harry floated up near the ceiling – yes, _floated_ in a cheap folding chair he must have snagged from outside, lazily tracking a Snitch as it bobbed and dipped. The chair turned and he caught sight of her.

"Hey Gin," he waved down. "We're back. Did you have a good week?" His voice mimicked the studied innocent tone, first perfected by Fred and George, that suggested Harry was quite aware that his friendly query would not be well-received.

"Didn't you all play enough fucking Quidditch already? Do you know what the fuck time it is?" Ginny was not in the mood to mince words.

"And hello to you too, Miss Weasley," Dam drawled from his spot across the hall. "Nice to see . . . . so _much _of you this morning."

Ginny cursed when she realized what she was wearing – a worn out and nearly see-through t-shirt and tiny ruffled sleep-shorts – but she refused to give Dam or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing her cross her arms or blush. They certainly could see that the red in her cheeks was from anger, not embarrassment. She gripped her wand, trying to figure out what hex might be most effective, when Harry spoke again.

"Ehh, Ginny always dresses like that when she's home. All those brothers, you know? She's not into all that girly stuff." He gave her a cocky grin before rotating his chair slowly upside down and then right way up again. "Cool move, huh?" No more falling off my broom if someone tries to hex me in the air." He gave her an expectant look, obviously waiting for praise for his stunt.

Ginny was having none of it. "I was asleep," she seethed. "And I bet the other tenants on this hall were too, before you arses mistook it for a pitch." She put her hands on her hips. "Some of us have jobs that actually require us to think in order to stay alive."

Harry lowered his chair to the ground. "Sorry, Ginny," he said. "Was your first week that tough?"

"Yeah," added Chaser Wilder Rich. "Did you capture a bunch of dark wizards already?"

"Fuck you," she said to the general group. "It's too early for this."

Dam shrugged. No other flats on this floor other than ours and yours," he pointed out. "Ron's gone, and I guess I assumed you might have found somewhere less . . . solitary to sleep last night." He raised his eyebrows. "Not that I'm complaining to find out you were alone, of course. Maybe we can do something to remedy that soon."

"Duck!" Harry yelled and tackled his captain at the same time, and Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex flew harmlessly over their heads and hit the wall. The two men sat up, groaning and rubbing sore elbows and knees. Harry gave her an annoyed look. "Ginny, please don't hex the captain of the Arrows; we don't have a backup Keeper right now. He's not one of your brothers or just some bloke who pinched your arse."

"Not yet," said Ginny darkly. Dam gave her an appraising look.

"I like this one, she's feisty." He turned to Harry. "You'll have to give me the inside scoop on Miss Weasley, Potter. How long have you two known each other?"

"Too long," said Ginny, just as Harry answered, "seven years." He rolled his eyes at her and she shrugged.

"And he won't tell you anything, will you, Harry?" Ginny rolled her wand in between her fingers.

Harry shook his head and Dam just laughed. "Ahh, get him drunk enough tonight and I'm sure he'll talk plenty. Would you like to join us in hazing Harry tonight, Miss Weasley? That way you can keep an eye on him yourself."

Ginny shook her head. "I have plans," she said, not mentioning that those plans involved another robe-ripping wizard romance novel. "You'll have to have your fun without me."

"We'll try, but I'm sure it won't be the same," smirked Dam. "And we'll try not to make too much noise when we get back. "Harry's reflexes aren't going to be quick enough to save me again." He looked around at the rest of the team. "Okay, you heard the lady, let's take this outside so she can get her beauty sleep, not that she needs it."

Harry folded up the chair and hoisted it onto his shoulder. "Sorry about that," he said. "He can be a little much, but he's a good bloke and always has our backs."

Ginny shrugged. "All those brothers, remember, Harry? I can take care of myself."

Harry looked like he was about to say something and then closed his mouth. "Right," he finally said. "Okay." He looked down the hall to where his teammates were just disappearing into a stairwell. "I guess I'll see you later, then."

Ginny nodded. "See you later."


	3. Don't Mind the Minding

A/N: I had a busy weekend writing; I'm not sure I'll be able to keep updating both this and Servant of Death so quickly, but we'll see.

Ginny purposely went out to pick up food at the time she thought the Arrows would be leaving for the pub; what she hadn't anticipated was that they would exit through the very public front entrance to the building, or that they'd still be loitering on the walk, signing autographs and posing for pictures, when she returned.

She had to push her way through the crowd just to get near the front door; all the witches (and a few wizards), assumed she was just another fan, trying to get closer to the team. "Watch it, I got my spot at six this morning," one said to her, blocking the path forward. Ginny changed course, only to find herself barricaded by a line of folding chairs filled by a number of witches in matching t-shirts proclaiming themselves to be "Fans Seeking Harry Potter."

Ginny was about to give up and go eat her supper in the park when Dam caught sight of her. He dropped the flowers and box of chocolates that had been pressed into his hands and walked easily down the sidewalk, the crowd parting to let him through. He walked up to Ginny with his arms wide in welcome and a big grin on his face.

"So, Miss Weasley, did you decide to join us after all? We'd love to have you." Around her, Ginny could here the sudden interested muttering of those watching – and wondering – what she'd done to earn such attention. Dam leaned down to speak low in her ear.

"I can't tell you the name of the pub out here – we don't want to be overrun, but I'll have Harry send you a Patronus when we arrive; he's really good at that spell. Mine always go wonky." He ran his hand down her arm.

Ginny batted it away. "I'm going to take advantage of the quiet to catch up on my sleep," she said pointedly. "I woke up unfortunately early this morning."

"And then went for a run, didn't you?" Harry appeared next to Dam. "I saw you when I went out too."

Ginny nodded, unsurprised. She'd seen Harry and then carefully changed direction, as if she'd always planned to take a path through the park as opposed to skirting around the edge of it. She wasn't avoiding him, exactly (well, okay, she was), but not because she didn't want to see him. She just liked to run alone, without trying to carry on a conversation or wonder what the other person was thinking about her pace or form or whatever. That's what she told herself, at least.

While all the Arrows were rather more dressed up than usual – not difficult, given that they generally wore athletic gear – Harry was wearing a silky, electric blue dress shirt that was so fitted Ginny could practically count his abs through it. Objectively, she supposed it looked good on him, but she knew without asking that his attire, like everything else planned for this evening, had been orchestrated by someone else. He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, a sure sign, Ginny knew, that he was slightly nervous. She had first seen him make a similar move while being introduced to her parents, right after Ron and the twins had rescued him from his aunt and uncle's house the summer before Ginny's horrible first year at school. It was the first time she'd met him, and she didn't understand for several years what his rocking meant – couldn't comprehend that there was anything at all to be nervous about when it came to her family. Getting pranked by Fred and George excepted, of course. But she'd seen Harry rock occasionally since then – before tasks at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, his first lesson for the DA – and gradually came to understand that it was his way of using up the excess energy wrought by feeling like all eyes were on him in expectation, and that he wasn't quite up to task. He'd been rock steady and grounded the night he'd faced Voldemort for the last time.

Harry was picking at the hem of his shirt and Ginny's suspicions about its source were confirmed. She refrained from commenting about it, and instead, patted him on the elbow.

"Have fun," she said. "I'd tell you not to get into too much trouble before you're dumped on my doorstep, but I suppose it's out of your hands."

Harry's goodbye smile was a little forced; Dam's much less so. He clapped Harry on the back. "Nothing to worry about, fun will be had by all!" he said heartily. He turned to the rest of the team, most of whom were still deep in shallow conversations with various fangirls and fanboys . The Seeking Harry Potter group looked rather put out that their hero was not similarly engaged. One rather buxom blonde actually glared at Ginny, who turned away to hide her smile. As the team moved down the walkway and to the nearby Apparition spot, the crowd followed ,and Ginny was able to make her way to the front door. She didn't look back before slipping inside.

Ginny had finished dinner, taken a shower, and was wondering how serious Damacles had been about bringing Harry over later when there was a tapping on her window. Startled for a minute, she realized it was an owl, delivering her copy of the Evening Prophet. Ginny had never been a regular subscriber to the paper – full of propaganda as it had been for so many years – but one of her lecturers had mentioned that it was a good way to track patterns of dark movement, that even inflated or grossly ridiculous stories often had a kernel of truth to them. Today was her first evening delivery.

She quickly read through a front page article warning that an Inferius had been spotted in the greater area – and mentally filed the information under _unlikely but bodes checking_ before delving into the inner pages. Nothing inside seemed particularly relevant; the Evening Prophet was much shorter than the morning edition – and Ginny turned to look at the Quidditch scores when her eye was stopped by a large photograph inside the back page. Even with only half his face visible, and surrounded by cheering teammate's Harry's image was unmistakable. Over and over, Ginny watched him throw his arm sloppily around a witch and pull her in for what appeared to be much more than a friendly kiss. Indeed, the woman's hand snaked around Harry's waist as she pressed herself against him, while Dam, Adam, and Wilder grinned and high-fived in the background.

Ginny looked for an article, but the photo only had a caption, stating that _Harry Potter and close friend Katerina Bellows get cozy during a night out with the Arrows at the Burning Cauldron._

"Close friend my ass," said Ginny to herself. She had finally recognized the witch as the same blonde who'd stared daggers at Ginny outside; apparently she'd been successful at prizing the name of the group's destination from one of them.

Hoping that it was merely the alcohol lowering Harry's inhibitions and that no one had slipped him a potion, Ginny folded up the paper and climbed up on her bed with a book, wondering if Harry would just end up going home with that witch, and hoping that she never had to hear about it.

It was past one in the morning, and Ginny was dozing on her bed, having finally decided that she was off the hook, when there was an irregular pounding on her door.

"Oh Miss Weasley, I have somethin' for you. Somethin' . . . some ONE for you." Dam's voice was unmistakable, and unmistakably drunk. Cursing that she was apparently going to be the one to pick up the pieces after Harry had had his fun, Ginny got up and stretched before opening her door.

Dam stood there leering at her, looking rather less intoxicated than he'd sounded. Harry was leaning woozily against him, clutching what looked like a red lacy bra in one hand. He made a feeble attempt to straighten up when he saw her.

"Hi . . . hiya Ginny," he slurred. "Dama . . Dam says yer gonna take care of me now." He hiccupped and gave her a wobbly smile. Ginny sighed and stepped back to let them in.

"Has he at least gotten sick already?" It was much easier to mind her drunk brothers after they'd vomited a couple of times.

Dam shook his head cheerfully. "Nope, not once. He's a lot better of a drinker than I would have pegged him for. Better kisser too, if that witch was any indication." The captain half-dragged Harry into the flat sat him down, none to gently, on Ginny's sofa. "I heard it made the papers?"

Ginny nodded and waved her hand at the Prophet. "He's going to hate that," she said.

Dam picked up the article and scanned it quickly. "Nah, it's fine. Great publicity for us. And Harry certainly didn't seem to be hating it at the time. He can do better in the looks department though." He looked at Ginny. "I take it that you and he never . . .?"

"No, not at all," said Ginny quickly. "He's like . . . another brother. We get along fine, but he's usually treated me like I'm . . . you know, getting in the way of whatever he and Ron were up to. And Hermione." She shook her head. "Ron and I are only sixteen months apart, you know."

"Huh," said Dam. He tossed Ginny's Gryffindor blanket over Harry. "I didn't, but I never got the impression from Harry that . . . well, that he found you intrusive.

Harry shuffled on the couch. "Ginny's not," he mumbled. "She's doesn't . . . she's my friend." He opened his eyes. "Izzat right Ginny? Are you my friend?"

Ginny conjured a bucket and put it on the floor next to the sofa before taking the bra from Harry's hand and pushing him into a more prone position on the sofa. "Sure Harry," she said agreeably, years of experience with drunken ranting behind her. "I'm your friend. Your friend, your little sister, whatever you want."

"What I wan' iz . . . iz . . ." he began. Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he started to snore.

Ginny lowered the lamps and looked at Dam. "I can take it from here," she said. "Thanks for bringing him. He really shouldn't be alone."

Dam nodded. "He'll be out for hours." The man's eyes flicked toward the wall that separated Ginny's bed from the rest of the flat. "D'you want to, maybe . . .?"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Ginny spoke quietly to keep from waking Harry, but there was no mistaking her tone.

Dam jumped back in mock horror. "Okay, okay, just thought I'd ask." He grinned. "I always have to ask, you know?"

Despite herself, Ginny smiled back. "I have six brothers, I know every move in the book." She smirked. "That wasn't even a particularly good try."

Dam groaned. "I'll try harder next time," he said. He walked towards the door. Just before he left, he stopped. "Do you have any hangover potion here?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't usually keep it here unless I think I'm going to need it; it loses effectiveness pretty quickly." She raised her eyebrows. "I'd assume that's something you'd have in regular supply yourself though."

Dam grinned. "Oh, it's not for me. I wanted to make sure Harry doesn't get any. It's part of the hazing process. He needs to recover all on his own."

Ginny put her hands on her hips. "And I suppose I'm expected to care for him while he does?"

"That's the plan, yes," Dam nodded. "Tell him I'll see him for a run around . . . three tomorrow afternoon? That should give him time to at least feel somewhat human again."

Ginny doubted that, but she nodded before pushing the Arrows' captain out the door and closing it firmly behind him.

Alone now, Ginny sighed and looked at Harry. He was sleeping deeply right now, breathing heavily through his mouth. She carefully rolled him more fully onto his side and straightened the blanket. "Try not to miss the bucket, okay, Potter?" she muttered. With a flick of her wand, she turned the lamps even lower, leaving just enough light so that she could make out Harry's figure from her spot in bed. She didn't even bother taking off her sweats, but climbed under the covers and curled up on her side, hoping for at least a couple of hours of sleep before she was needed.

In fact, it was nearly six in the morning and light was streaming in from the edges of her shades when Ginny woke up to a quiet groan. She was instantly alert, having not slept deeply the entire night. She grabbed her wand and slid silently off her bed.

"Hey," she said quietly in the direction of her sofa. She waved her wand and lit the lamps, keeping them low.

"Hey," he muttered. He was still lying down, one hand over his face.

"Do I need to ask how you're feeling?"

Harry grunted.

"I'll take that as a no," said Ginny lightly. "Can I get you anything?"

Once, the first time she'd attended to Bill the morning after a raucous night out with his curse breaking friends, Ginny had tried lecturing her brother on the evils of too much alcohol while he was still in the throes of a massive hangover. It hadn't gone well. Now, she confined her comments to the mundane and necessary. She knew what Harry had done, and why he had done it, and there was no need to be smarmy, not now anyway.

"Some water, maybe," said Harry thickly. "My mouth feels like something curled up and died in it."

_Like that slag's tongue,_ Ginny thought to herself. If Harry's teammates had been there, she was certain one of them would have made a similar comment out loud. Instead, she merely hmm'ed noncommittally and walked into her kitchen.

"Did you at least have a good time?" She asked. She added a cooling and refilling charm to a cup of water and brought it over to Harry. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Thanks," he said. He took the cup gratefully and gave it a tentative sip. "It was fun at first," he said. "The pub was a fancy one, and the drinks were great, when I was still sober enough to appreciate them." He made a face. "But the point of hazing night is to get the target as wasted as possible – so they do things they regret and everyone has stories to take the mickey later." Harry gave her a small grin. "When I'm feeling more alert, remind me to tell you what the twins did when they joined the team."

"I know Fred and George, I can only imagine," said Ginny dryly. She glanced at the paper lying on the side table. "Do you remember . . . everything about the night?" she asked carefully.

Harry grimaced. "You mean the witch," he said flatly. "The blonde one." He looked at the side of the sofa and picked up the red lace bra he'd been holding the previous night, grimacing at it

"So you do remember . . . what you did with her?" Ginny hated to ask, but one thing she had learned from Ron was how carefully Harry guarded his privacy. At the least, he deserved to hear it from a friend before being confronted in public.

Harry nodded tiredly and rubbed at his eyes. "I know we kissed, a lot. Dam and everyone were egging me on. And she had her hands . . . a lot of places. Over my clothes," he added hastily. He waved the bra. "She gave this to me. I didn't . . . I didn't take it off her or anything. Ginny nodded.

"I don't think I touched her much at all," he continued. He closed his eyes as if trying to think. "It's what they expected me to do, on my hazing night. So I did - I didn't enjoy it. I don't really even remember what she looked like. She's probably a regular downstairs though." He sighed. "I hate that part."

"What part do you hate?" asked Ginny. "The fawning fans? I'd think that's part of the job, isn't it?"

"It is," agreed Harry, "and that's fine, for the ones who are just crazy about getting close to professional Quidditch players. But . . ." he gave a small hiccup and took another sip of water before continuing. "But some of them . . . a lot of them . . . are more interested in getting close to Harry Potter, no matter what job I have." He sighed. "At least with the Arrows we have security to watch out for the more . . . _overly enthusiastic_ ones. Last year, when I was . . . not playing Quidditch, it was worse. Even from the ones who weren't fans, there was a lot of curiosity about 'What Harry Potter would do now's that he's killed the Dark Lord."

Harry spoke lightly, but Ginny detected the slightest undercurrent of bitterness. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. "You were doing more than just helping Ron and the others with the rebuilding," she said.

Harry gave her a wary look. "What have you heard?"

"Not much," said Ginny. She didn't mention Ernie or Terry Boot's comments. "Just what Ron told me."

Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes again. "He's keeping me up to date about what they say in training. About me, or about some of what I was doing. I guess they haven't discussed it yet, but I'm sure they will. I . . . wasn't quite finished."

Ginny bit back a completely irrational flash of jealousy that Harry had asked Ron, and not her and Ron, to keep him informed about the Aurors. Harry obviously felt terrible right now; this wasn't the time berate him for not trusting that she was also fully capable of communicating to him what was going on. Still, she couldn't stop herself from reminding Harry that she was Ron's equal in this.

"I'll let you know what I hear too," she said.

"Thanks," he said. He leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "I sometimes forget that that you're . . ."

"That I'm grown up? Not the annoying little sister anymore?" Ginny forced herself to keep her voice light.

Harry shook his head slightly and winced. "You weren't that annoying," he said. "Just sometimes." He swallowed. "But we didn't make it easy for you sometimes I know." He lumped himself easily in with her brothers, Ginny noticed. She remembered the photos on in his bedroom. She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. But he wasn't finished talking.

"But, yeah. I guess I forgot that you'd want to . . ." Whatever Harry was about to say when a loud thump against the wall shook Ginny's flat. She cursed.

"Damn Bludgers," she said. "I figured they'd want to sleep it off after last night."

"No one else drank as much as I did," said Harry thickly. "And I'm sure they've all taken a hangover potion anyway." He muffled a burp into his fist. "I hope they're satisfied with my performance and I proved whatever it is I was supposed to. I don't want to do this again."

"Dam seemed pretty impressed with your behavior when he dropped you off last night," said Ginny. "Both with the witch and how much you drank. Said he wouldn't have guessed you could hold your alcohol so well. Actually, neither could I. Ron's a proper lightweight."

"Yeah, well," Harry suddenly looked sheepish. "I may have had some help with that."

"What kind of help? Something to help you absorb alcohol? You were still pretty drunk."

Harry shook his head and winced again. He squeezed the bridge of his nose for a minute before looking up again. "No . . . nothing like that," he said. "I felt everything I drank." He swallowed a sip of water. "But there's a spell . . . Dumbledore taught me when we were . . . when he was showing me things. That I might need to know when I . . . when Ron and I, and Hermione . . ." he glanced at her. "When we were away."

Ginny nodded in understanding. Harry took another small drink of water.

"The spell prevents vomiting, it's kind of the opposite of your brothers' puking pastilles." He gave a small smirk. "I think it's meant for less frivolous uses than proving how much you can drink, but it worked just fine here." He grimaced. "At least, it worked for a while. I think it's wearing off." He swallowed, and Ginny saw the color drain from his face. She bent down to push the bucket in his direction, but Harry lurched to his feet.

"Can I . . . use your loo?" He was already walking quickly in that direction.

"Of course," said Ginny. She stood up, not sure whether to follow him. "Do you need anything?"

Harry didn't answer, just disappeared into her small bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door all the way. A few seconds later, Ginny heard the sound of retching and she winced in sympathy. It sounded like Harry was going to be in there a while.

She debated for less than a second. With a glance towards her front door and then another at her bathroom, Ginny grabbed a handful of Floo powder off her mantle and quickly whirled away in a rush of green flames.

When she returned fifteen minutes later clutching a bag from the apothecary, Harry hadn't emerged, but the sounds coming from the bathroom had eased. She called softly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," came the terse reply. A minute later, the door to the loo opened fully and Harry walked out. He was pale and shaky but didn't seem in imminent danger of getting sick again. He sat heavily on the sofa and closed his eyes. "That was horrible," he muttered. He cracked an eye open. "Don't tell Dam or the others."

"If you don't tell them I got you this." She held out the bag.

Harry stared at it for a long beat. "You got me hangover potion?" he asked slowly.

Ginny nodded. "I know you aren't supposed to have any, but honestly, after everything else, that seems cruel." She opened the bag and took out the vial. "I got the single dose kind."

Harry took the vial. "Thanks, Ginny," he said quietly. "I wouldn't have thought . . ." he stopped, and looked down at his hands.

"Wouldn't have thought what? Don't you want it?"

Harry nodded. "I do, definitely. I guess I'm just surprised that you got it for me."

Ginny didn't understand. "You're surprised that I'd go against Dam's orders? I've lived my entire life learning how to ignore and get around the stupid rules my brothers tried to get me to follow. Why would this be any different?"

"Well, that's just it," said Harry. "If it was Bill, telling you not to give Ron a potion, or the twins, you'd have listened to him, right? It would have been funny." He shrugged. "So I'd expect you to do the same with me."

"Oh," said Ginny. She was quiet for a minute. Then she nodded. "If it had been Bill, and we'd all been at home, goofing off, then yeah, I wouldn't have gotten you the potion. But this is different." She peered at him. "Have you even ever been drunk before?"

Harry shook his head. "Never," he said. "There just hasn't really been the opportunity. I know Ron did, this past year, with Seamus and Dean."

"And Neville," giggled Ginny. "After they finished rebuilding a tricky bit at the castle." She bit her lip. "You weren't there?"

Harry shook his head again. "No," he said simply.

"I . . . I didn't like seeing you out of control last night. Knowing it wasn't your doing," she said quietly. "I mean, I know it was expected of you, as part of your 'job' so to speak, but . . ." She trailed off.

"But what?" Harry's voice was very quiet but Ginny didn't think it was the headache.

"But, I get the feeling you don't have control over most things in your life, not right now," she said. "The least I could do is make sure you don't puke in the middle of your run with the team later." She looked at him. "At three."

Harry spun the bottle in his hands. "You're right," he said. "About all of it. It's . . ." He broke off, and Ginny suspected he'd changed his mind about what to say next. "Three, huh?"

She nodded. "I think Dam expects you'll be dragging."

Harry popped open the vial. "I won't drink all of it, then," he said. "If I'm too chipper he might get suspicious. I just need enough to get rid of the worst of my headache and settle my stomach a bit." He drank carefully, stopping when the vial was still half full and leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed. "Ahhh," he groaned in relief. "Feels better already."

Ginny took the rest of the potion from his hand and Harry opened his eyes. "So you don't get tempted," she explained. She stood up. "And I suppose I don't need to tell you how stupid it is to do a spell that prevents vomiting when you're planning to drink yourself nearly unconscious?"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Dumbledore may have mentioned something like that too."

Ginny huffed. "You're all idiots, you know that? I hope you never taught that spell to Ron."

"No, Dumbledore made me promise not to," he said. "Although I think you learn it in the Aurors. "Part of your lessons on annoyance hexes – you know, charley horses, headaches, ringing in the ears, stomachaches. All that fun stuff. I think the spells to control or arrest bodily functions are part of that set of lessons."

Ginny didn't ask how Harry knew so much about the Auror curriculum. She waved at the sofa. "Stay here and rest if you need to," she said. "I'm going out. I need groceries and a few things for training." She also needed some time alone, without feeling like she had fallen right back into the role of caretaking little sister, but she didn't say that to Harry. He was looking much more clearheaded now, though, and Ginny considered what kind of promise or favor she might extract from him in the future as repayment for her minding him.

Harry nodded. "I may have a kip," he said. He grabbed the blanket that had fallen to the floor and pulled it over himself.

Ginny sighed at Harry's apparent ease at making himself quite at home in her flat. "Not sure what's wrong with yours," she muttered under her breath.

Harry had closed his eyes again. "Did you say something?" he mumbled.

"No Harry," get some rest," said Ginny. "I'll be back later."

HPHPHPHP

Outside the apartment building, Ginny saw that the fallout of the previous night extended beyond Harry and her own flat. It looked as if quite a number of fans had stayed put, waiting for the team to return, and had done so with bottles of Firewhiskey and whatnot. Several actual tents were actually erected along the walkway, and Ginny could hear the sound of snoring from one. Another was shaking lightly and seemed to be hosting quite a different activity than sleep, and Ginny wondered to herself just how many members of the Arrows hadn't slept in their own beds last night. She was about to turn left towards the Apparition point when a short figure rose from one of the last chairs in the row and blocked her path.

"Well, well," said the witch. "Don't you have it convenient, now. Did you enjoy your sloppy seconds?"

Ginny stopped. She recognized the witch from her photo in the paper. Even with her lips wrapped around Harry's her face was unmistakable. Ginny played dumb. "Excuse me?" She said."

The woman huffed. "Oh, I know what you did. I heard Damacles Clarke say so himself, that you were waiting anxiously at your flat for the afters." She preened. "Harry Potter chose me first, you know. And we had a _lovely_ time together." The witch flipped her hair. "I don't know what you got, later on, but I assure you, it was nothing compared to what he did for me."

"He did nothing for me," said Ginny shortly. "I've known him since I was ten and he's my brother's best mate. I took care of him, that's all." She could see the woman did not believe her.

"Didn't want you, did he then?" she scorned. "Not surprising. He seems to prefer blondes, you know."

Ginny didn't bother with a reply, just stepped off the path and walked around the witch. As soon as she had passed, she turned around. "And, Katerina," she said sweetly, thankful that she remembered the name from the paper. "I'd certainly know better than to think a bloke chose me for a snog when he was already half out of his mind with drink during his hazing night." She smiled. "Dam talked to me directly. We're neighbors, you know."

While Katerina stared angrily at her, Ginny turned to the Apparition point. "Have a good day waiting out here," she said in parting. "Looks like it might rain."


	4. Open Mouth, Insert Foot

A/N: I had a PM from someone telling me that they really like "this" Harry, and my response was that I'm still getting to know him, lol. I'm getting to know Ginny too. I do know their motivations though, even when they sometimes don't, and all I can say is, don't assume everything is exactly as it seems . . .

Ten minutes into her second week as an Auror trainee, Ginny understood that the previous week had been a tease. What she'd assumed was going to be the pace and schedule of the training had been merely an _introduction_. Now they were divided into groups, assigned mountains of homework (both reading and practical), and marched through each day as if an entire village of Death Eaters was readying an attack and the only thing standing between them and the destruction of the wizarding world was the Ginny and her co-trainees.

Today, they were sitting in their morning class, "Roots of Dark Magic" listening to an Auror Ginny had never seen before drone on about what kinds of factors might make someone turn to evil. While the rest of the training was fascinating and useful, these lectures were mostly theoretical and had quickly become the trainees' least favorite part of the day; indeed, Ginny suspected they were scheduled first thing in an attempt to make sure they all stayed awake. But really, how difficult was it to understand that a desire for money or power were two major contributors in the reasons certain wizards turned Dark?

"Do you think the Goblins at Gringotts can help track suspicious transactions as a method for predicting Dark activity?" Copernicus Center, the oldest of the trainees, was speaking and everyone groaned. He had a habit of asking questions on topics that had been either previously covered or else were so obvious that they weren't deserving of more than two or three minutes discussion. In this case, "financial evidence" had been covered quite thoroughly two days earlier. But they'd had a different lecturer, and today's teacher looked quite delighted at the prospect of one of her students showing any interest at all. She launched into a back and forth discussion with Copernicus about what methods the Goblins used that was almost a word for word repeat of the previous lecture. Around her, Ginny could already sense the rest of the class tuning out.

She elbowed her brother, who was snoring lightly.

"Didn't you wake up just an hour or two ago?" she hissed.

Ron startled and sat up straight in his chair. "Late night with the Arrows," he mumbled. "Those witches downstairs wanted to have a party and Harry brought me along."

"Is that why I had to put silencing charms on all my windows then? I'm surprised no one else complained how loud the music was. It sounded like the Weird Sisters were right outside my flat."

Ron snorted. "That was Harry's idea," he said. "He used one of Fred and George's message Snitches to magnify the music and fly up to your window. The team had a bet going about how long it would take you to come downstairs and start hexing. Harry lost."

Ginny stifled a groan of irritation. "He knew I had work early this morning, probably thought it was funny."

Ron shrugged. "It _was_ funny," he said. "Of course, it would have been better if you'd made an appearance. I lost a whole Galleon myself." He gave Ginny an aggrieved look as if she was responsible his loss.

"Don't blame me for your poor financial decisions," she said. "Why would I want to come down there anyway? Sounds like you had enough female attention anyway."

"That's for sure," answered Ron. "But those fangirls are crazy. That one Harry kissed was there and it was clear she wanted second helpings. She kept draping herself all over him and offering him chocolates and things." He grinned. "But sober Harry wasn't nearly as interested. Sober Dam and sober twins on the other hand . . ." He made a rather obnoxious gesture with his hand and Ginny slapped it down.

"Oy, Ron, are you still twelve?"

"All I'm saying is that Harry'd better watch out. I can bet some of those chocolates were filled with a sex potion or something."

Ginny frowned. "Harry should know better than to eat anything from Fred and George's shop," she said.

Ron nodded. "He does," he confirmed. "But I think Dam and the others know better too. And chose to eat them anyway. The were trying to get Adam and Harry to join in when . . ."

"Ahem."

Copernicus and the instructor had apparently finished their "private" talk, and the Auror was peering at all of them again, looking faintly put out. Ginny sat up and arranged her face into an expression of interest. She hoped that next to her, Ron was doing the same.

"Mr. Center's question about the Gringott's goblins raises an interesting question," the lecturer said. "Not all suspicious activity they uncover; indeed, not all suspicious activity in general, is covered by the jurisdiction of the Aurors. Other branches of Magical Law Enforcement must be involved where appropriate."

"But how do you know what's appropriate?" asked Ernie. "I thought we were here to chase down rogue Death Eaters."

"Not everyone can be divided neatly in the good people and Death Eaters," said Ginny. She remembered Sirius saying as much to Harry during one of their stays at Grimmauld Place her fourth year. It hadn't really resonated with her as much at the time; law enforcement meant the Aurors and the Order and where the two groups overlapped. Everyone who was not part of the Order was subject to suspicion then. She tried to remember more of what Sirius had said to Harry, but her memory was tainted by her disagreement with him over Christmas. Now she understood that evil could come in many forms – just look at Umbridge, who still, somehow, had a place working at the Ministry, and yet whom Ginny considered almost as bad as the Death Eaters. She wasn't alone in that opinion either. She pulled out her quill; finally one of their morning lectures might be useful.

The instructor nodded. "That's exactly right, Miss Weasley. During the war, there was plenty of truly Dark activity, of course, and stopping it was the main focus of the Aurors." She grimaced. "But corruption in the Ministry made out task particularly difficult. There were plenty of wizards . . . there _are _still plenty of wizards, who may not be practitioners of truly Dark Magic like the Death Eaters, but who can be nearly as dangerous. The lure of dark magic for any manner of reasons is strong. We work closely with magical law enforcement to figure out what cases deserve an Auror presence and which ones don't. As you move further in your training, don't ever hesitate to mention your suspicions if something doesn't feel right. Right now, it's better to respond with too heavy a presence than not enough."

Ginny noticed that the instructor had so far refrained from mentioning Voldemort at all, and she wondered if it was on purpose. Before she could say anything, Parvati raised her hand.

"But aren't there also wizards who are born evil? I don't think that Voldemort was who he was because he wanted money."

Ginny flashed her a smile of understanding. "And he was Dark from a very young age; before he left Hogwarts for sure." She suppressed a shudder. She didn't speak often of the Chamber, but she'd known when she joined the Aurors that the topic would likely come up. Better that it be on her own terms. "He committed murder by the time he was fifteen," she continued. "And was already taking steps to delve deeper into dark magic than almost anyone had before."

Their instructor nodded grimly. "Thank you, Miss Weasley. I don't know if Gawain Robards has spoken to you yet, but we'd like to have you talk about your experience in the Chamber of Secrets and what led up to it when you are all further along in training. It's an excellent example of how to identify dark objects and the danger they can cause."

Ginny nodded stiffly. "It wasn't the object that was dark as much as the wizard who created it," she said carefully. Even after all these years, it still stung to think about how naïve she had been. "But you'll probably want to have Ron talk too; he's the one who fought . . . what came out of the diary and saved me."

Next to her, Ron shuffled. "It wasn't all me," he muttered. "Harry was there too." Ginny looked at her brother; the few times anyone in her family discussed the Chamber, Ron was always quick to include Harry's participation, even though he'd been mostly trapped behind an avalanche of rocks in the tunnel. Harry himself never spoke of it.

"Yes, well, Mr. Potter is not here now, is he?" asked the instructor primly. "I think you and Ron will be more than sufficient to convey the information we need."

"But Harry was also . . ." Ginny began. She stopped, unsure exactly how much to say about the year Harry and Ron and Hermione were on the run. Surely the more senior Aurors were aware of the Horcrux hunt, but Ginny herself only knew because of her proximity to family discussions about it. Harry and the others had been otherwise tight-lipped.

The instructor gave her a sharp look. "That is neither here nor there right now," she said. "Today we are talking about how to identify dangerous situations wrought by wizards who may be less evil and more greedy, power-hungry, and inexperienced. Please open your manuals to page 36 and read the anecdotes. You will be tested later on the types of spells that can be used to detect such minor dark magic."

Sighing to herself, Ginny complied, scowling slightly at the rather simplistic story about a wizard who wanted to use a dark spell to multiply his meager savings into additional funds. Hopefully, the afternoon lessons would be more interesting.

HPHPHPHPH

It was with no little measure of relief that Ginny Apparated straight to the Burrow after her final lesson on Friday. The week had been long and difficult, full of practical lessons about tracking down and diffusing all manner of dark activity. With a pang of sadness, she'd struggled through their first lesson in disillusionment and disguise, remembering Tonks and the ease at which she'd been able to change her appearance. Basic hexing and protections charms were much easier; so far they hadn't learned anything Harry hadn't taught them years ago in the DA, and it showed in the success all the trainees who were former members displayed.

But even as they learned new and darker magic and defense, Ginny couldn't shake the feeling unease at what wasn't being taught. For surely, no matter what might have been said or shouted in anger, there was no question that Harry's unique knowledge and experience would be useful here. And yet, it felt like any mention of him or his activities had been excised from the curriculum.

Still, Ginny's curiosity about why Harry wasn't mentioned at training hadn't prevented her from deciding to skip a trip to her flat in favor of arriving early at the Burrow for dinner. The team had been gone for three glorious days, and Ginny had enjoyed both the quiet and the ease with which she had been able to enter and leave the building. But the appearance of a number of folding chairs on the front walk that morning would have alerted her to the team's imminent return even if that nasty blonde Katerina hadn't tried – inartfully – to cast a tripping spell at Ginny as she walked down the path that morning. It still surprised her sometimes how poor so many witches and wizards seemed to be at basic magic; Ginny was beginning to realize that being surrounded by powerful and talented wizards was something she had always taken for granted. She hadn't even bothered to return the hex; better to ignore the woman.

But Harry was still on her mind while she helped her mum prepare supper, after changing into her most comfortable old Quidditch practice things from her days on the Hogwarts team. She'd left them at the Burrow on purpose when she moved into her flat, and now she sighed contentedly at their cozy warmth. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling idly with set of Muggle playing cards, flipping them over and over and chortling when the images on them stayed the same every time. Ginny had half a mind to ask him about Harry; certainly her father's newly elevated status at the Ministry would have made him privy to a bit more news than either Ron or Hermione had known. He'd be tactful about it too, her dad would, and Ginny could have her curiosity satisfied as well as possibly get a leg up on the other trainees.

But before she could say anything, a series of cracks outside the door announced the arrival of various of her brothers. She bit back her question; no doubt Percy and even Bill would know something too, but getting any useful information out of them would require her to explain exactly why she was asking, and truth be told, Ginny wasn't entirely sure.

She sighed, levitating the dinner plates over to the table, but it was only when her mum told her to add one more that she realized Harry was coming to dinner as well.

They all trooped in _en mass_, pushing and joking and grabbing food out of pots still cooking on the stove. Ginny slapped away hands good-naturedly and made pointed comments about how they all always managed to arrive just as the hard work cooking was done, when Ron's voice rang out above the others.

"Nice outfit, Ginny. If you'd told us you were still interested in Quidditch maybe Harry could have gotten you a tryout with the Arrows." He and Harry high-fived and Harry gave her a rather cocky grin.

"I'm sure we'd all love to have a witch on the team again, Ginny, if you think you could keep up."

She opened her eyes wide. "Oh, I can keep up, all right. Probably better than you." She gave him a pointed look. "At least I'd know how to control myself around hand-sy witches while I was drunk."

"Witches maybe," Harry retorted. "But what about wizards?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Wizards too," said Ginny coolly. "Both drinking and flying." She knew she was probably pushing it a bit, suggesting that she flew better than a professional Quidditch team, but she couldn't help it. Somehow, coming back to the Burrow, no matter how relaxing, always ended up making her feel like she was a little kid again, fighting for attention and the chance to prove herself. Merlin, it had been years before her brothers would even mention anything remotely related to sex in front of her.

Which was probably why she pushed it.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here, Potter," she said, deliberately using his last name the way Dam had. "There were just so many _distractions_ outside the building earlier. I'm surprised you aren't charming . . . a Snitch for one of them. Maybe they'd actually enjoy it."

"Ron told you, did he? Why couldn't you have just come down? I lost four Galleons on you."

She raised her eyebrows. "And this is my fault why, exactly? As far as I knew, it was just a bunch of you showing off for those stupid fangirls. Most of whom couldn't charm their way out of a paper bag, I suspect. I had no interest in getting mixed up in any of that; I see and hear you all quite enough in the hallway outside my flat."

Harry grinned. "What exactly did you do to Katerina? She seemed the most put out that I was trying to get you downstairs."

"Not to mention the fact that Ginny didn't show up," added Ron. He looked at her. "I'd watch out for that one," he said seriously. "She's a little more . . . fanatical, than the others."

"That's why they all them fans, Ron," said Ginny patiently. "And I can handle her. Like I said, I'm not sure she could hex me badly enough to even cause a nosebleed."

"They can't fly either," said Harry. "One of them actually asked me if my 'Firebrand' could fly all the way across town before needing to recharge." He rolled his eyes. "She must be Muggleborn; she was so sure that we needed to plug in our brooms somewhere to get them to work."

Ginny rolled her eyes too. "Are all Arrows' fans that stupid or did you all just get especially lucky?" she said lightly. "At least I'd expect them to know something about the game."

Harry knocked her hip. "Not all Arrows fans are ignorant of Quidditch, are they? I mean, you're a fan, right Ginny?"

Ginny shrugged coolly. She had always kept her Quidditch team allegiances quiet; it was a running joke in the family. "I haven't decided yet. I'll have to see you all play first. I mean, you lost rather spectacularly to Tutshill last week, didn't you? I could have played better myself."

"That's because the referee was totally blind and missed two late hits!" said Harry indignantly. "Even the Tutshill captain admitted later that those calls just handed them the game; their Seeker had extra time to watch for the Snitch." He crossed his arms. "And if you really think you can fly better than me, why don't you show me, huh?" He looked across the kitchen. "Molly, how long until supper's ready?"

Ginny's mum smiled indulgently. "I'd say there's enough time for fly."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny should have known better, but she couldn't help it. She did love to fly, and with the way her training schedule had been lately with the Aurors, she hadn't had any time in the air for several weeks. Still, borrowing Harry's second practice broom and facing him (on his Firebolt) while her brothers watched from the edges of the Burrow's orchard was not Ginny's idea of relaxing. They weren't using Quaffles, just trying to see who could catch the Snitch first while dodging Bludgers, and Ginny couldn't help but complain.

"I'm a Chaser," she argued. "There's no way I can beat Harry at Seeking. We should get a Quaffle too."

"You played Seeker my Sixth Year," Harry pointed out. He smirked. "I thought you said you could keep up with me flying, no matter what. Are you chickening out now?"

"Fine," Ginny huffed. "But let's make it interesting then. What should we bet?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, since you said you can beat me at both flying and drinking, let's say that whoever catches the Snitch first has to buy the other drinks all night the next time we're all out at a pub. Sound good?"

That meant Ginny was going to end up going out with the Arrows no matter who won the bet. She sighed, but refused to give Harry the satisfaction of disagreeing. "You're on, Potter," she said.

At first, things were pretty even. Ginny and Harry raced around the Burrow's makeshift pitch, trying to outfly each other while looking for the Snitch. Fred and George started hitting Bludgers at them, and Ginny had to admit she was having fun practicing some of her more daring moves, rolling and swerving to avoid getting hit. She kept half an eye on Harry, flying high when he did and diving towards the ground even when she was certain he was faking having seen the Snitch. After his third such move she called over to him.

"Oldest trick in the book, Harry. Don't you have any better moves?"

He didn't answer, just shot back into the sky. Suddenly, two Bludgers came out of nowhere at the same time, and by the time Ginny had avoided both, she could just see Harry, flying out of the boundaries of the pitch and in the direction of the orchard. Ginny saw a hint of gold in the direction he was flying and too late, she realized she'd been played. She cursed to herself before leaning forward on her broom to follow him.

_Damn, but Harry was fast._ He shot past the orchard completely and banked sharply where the land beyond the Burrow's property fell away in a small valley before it rose back up again closer to the Lovegood's. By the time Ginny landed, he was sitting under a tree, idly playing with the Snitch.

She sat down in a huff next to him. "Did you plan that with my brothers or were just deciding to be arses on their own?"

Harry shrugged innocently. "I have no idea what you mean," he said. "I clearly outflew you."

Ginny cuffed him on the arm. "You cheated, you mean. The Bludgers were chasing both of us equally until the end. The bet's off."

"You're just worried I'll outdrink you in addition to outflying you," Harry teased. "All talk but no action, hmm?"

"If I remember correctly, you cheated at drinking too," said Ginny pointedly. "Take out all the fancy charms and I promise, I'll keep up just fine. I've been drinking with you all for years, remember?"

"I remember," said Harry. He played with the Snitch, tossing it in the air and then freezing it with his wand before it flew off.

"Well then, don't worry about me, okay? I don't need anymore child minding from my overprotective brothers, and that goes for you too." Ginny stood up.

"We should get back; Mum won't want to hold supper forever." She jumped on her broom. "Race you back?"

Harry stood up too. "Nah, you'll probably just accuse me of cheating again." For some reason, he sounded a little annoyed.

Ginny gave him a look. "Not so cocky when you don't have my brothers or your teammates to back you up?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just . . ." he stopped, and Ginny got the impression he was changing his mind about what to say. "I'm sorry about the Bludgers. Next time we'll race for real, okay?" He gave her a small grin. "And I'll still win."

"We'll see about that," said Ginny lightly. She took off without a backward glance.

Harry caught up easily, but instead of racing her, they flew side by side back to the Burrow. When they landed, he quickly told everyone there must have been something wrong with the Snitch, because neither of them had been able to find it, and declared the contest a tie.

Ginny interrupted. "What Harry _means _is that I caught him – and all of you – cheating, and doesn't want to admit that I win by forfeit."

"Ahh Ginny, too smart for us now," said Fred. "You used to fall for our tricks, what happened?"

"I grew up and joined the Aurors," retorted Ginny.

"Damn straight you did," said Bill. "And I heard you're already making a name for yourself."

"What kind of name?" asked Harry. He seemed to have gotten over whatever had been bothering him. "I can think of several that I'm sure they'd love to hear at the Ministry. . ." he raised his eyebrows.

_Like Little Red, or Fireball, or worse._ Ginny knew it would only take one well-placed comment for everyone in the training class to know what her family used to call her. She spoke without thinking.

"Yeah well, you'd actually have to show up at the Ministry to tell anyone those names, now wouldn't you?"

She knew immediately she'd gone too far. Harry's face closed up like a book, and Ron chided her with a quiet "not appropriate, Ginny." The rest of the family seemed to suddenly have business in other parts of the kitchen, and Hermione walked over to Harry and spoke to him quietly. Ginny saw him nod and shrug, looking unhappy.

Harry didn't speak to her – or even look at her – for the rest of the evening. Everyone else talked around the obvious tension, and her brothers made half-hearted attempts to tease her about whether there were any cute blokes in her training class, but they left Harry out of the joking. When everyone was helping clean up, she tried to get him alone to apologize, but he always seemed to be talking to Ron, or Fred and George, or her father, or Ron again. Finally she gave up.

Harry and Ron were the first to leave. After they said their goodbyes, Ginny saw Ron say something in an undertone to Harry, and Harry quickly shake his head before they both walked out the door.

When Ginny left quietly several minutes later, she realized that Ron had probably suggested taking her side-along to the private back entrance to the flat. She tried to muster up some annoyance at Harry's willingness to throw her back to the mercy of the fangirls, but deep down, she knew it was her fault.

They were camped out thicker than ever when she arrived home, and she stomped up the path without looking anyone in the eye, blasting chairs and photos and other paraphernalia out of her way with abandon, ignoring the shouts behind her.

"Slag," she heard someone mutter. "Probably worked her way through the team and can't understand why they're ignoring her now."

Ginny whirled around. It didn't surprise her to see Katerina standing there smirking, only this time, she was flanked by two other equally over-dressed and garishly made up cronies. It took all of her self-control to remember that Aurors were absolutely forbidden from using any of the many hexes and jinxes they knew to get petty revenge on people who annoyed them. Instead, she pretended to trip and simultaneously knocked up a clump of mud with her wand, spattering it across the three witches' fronts.

"Oops, sorry," she said sweetly. "I guess I didn't see that chair leg." She took a deep breath. _Hexes were forbidden but a reminder was okay. _ "You may want to be more careful with your things," she added. "I'll be needing this space to practice. Auror training, you know."

She hid her satisfaction at the slight hint of surprise that crossed the faces of the three witches. Hoping that would keep them out of her hair, she turned around and walked to her door.

Fixing things with Harry would be more difficult, she suspected. For a second, she considered just ignoring it and letting things die down on their own; the Arrows were going on another road trip in a day or two; she could surely avoid Harry until then. But that was the cowardly – and childish – way to deal with problems.

Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, Ginny knocked firmly on Ron and Harry's door, hoping Harry would answer and she could make her peace quickly.

Of course, Ron opened the door. Ginny half expected him to yell or tease her, but he just stood there looking at her. _Since when did he get so mature? _

"I need to talk to Harry," she said. Ron nodded and stood aside to let her in, and then disappeared in the direction of his bedroom. Ginny hoped his new maturity extended to the setting of a silencing charm.

Harry was sitting on the sofa with a bottle of butterbeer. He didn't stand up or scoot over to make room for her and after an awkward pause, she sat on one of the single chairs next to the wireless.

She took a deep breath. "I was out of line," she said finally. "And I'm sorry."

Harry gave a slight nod. "You know, don't you? That there's a reason I don't go back? Ron said he told you."

Ginny felt another flush of shame, because of course, Harry and Ron would have discussed it. She nodded. "Not the details, but yeah. Ron told me they wanted you for the Aurors and you refused. For a good reason."

Harry took a sip of butterbeer. "I'm not sure how good it was, but yeah, it's important. To me, at least."

"You don't have to tell me," she said quickly.

Harry looked surprised. "I wasn't," he said.

"Oh." Ginny flushed at her assumption.

"But it's enough you know I have a reason, and you trust me," Harry continued. "Enough people already think I've gone 'round the bend, but I'd expect you to know better."

"I do, really Harry, I do." Ginny bit back the urge to tell him how she'd stood up for him against Ernie; it would just sound patronizing right now. "I was just annoyed, because everyone always . . ." Now it was Ginny's turn to bite back her words. "Nothing. It was just a stupid thing to say and I'm sorry." She looked directly at him. "I do know better, I swear." She gave him a small smile. "And I promise, I'm on your side."

Harry nodded; he looked rather tired. "Thanks Ginny," he said quietly. "And I'll try not to . . . do whatever it is that makes you annoyed. You don't have to come out drinking with us."

Ginny bit back the odd flash of disappointment and forced herself to speak lightly. "Oh, I don't know. Someone still may need to watch out for you."

Harry wasn't yet ready to play, it seemed. "Hermione's pretty good at that," he said. He stood up. "I have an early workout tomorrow morning."

The dismissal was obvious. Ginny nodded and stood up too. "Hope it's a good one," she said. She walked herself to the door before turning back. "And Harry, I am really sorry."

He smiled at her, a little sadly. "I know Ginny."


	5. Clearing the Air

A/N: Things in my life are going to be busier for the next month or so, so my writing is going to slow down a bit. No more posting chapters from this and Servant of Death at the same time anymore. But I'm in the middle of the next chapter of that fic and will get it up as soon as possible.

Ginny saw Harry twice before the Arrows left on their next road trip, and both times, he was politely distant. The first was the morning after dinner at the Burrow; she left for her morning run earlier than usual, and ran into the entire team out in front of the building. Privately, Ginny was starting to wonder if any of them ever really used the secure back entrance at all. Harry was signing autographs for a couple of witches she was certain already had multiple copies of his photo, and she walked by more slowly than normal, hoping to catch his eye for a friendly hello. He didn't look up, although Ginny had the odd sensation he knew she was there.

Dam noticed her, of course, and jogged over with a big smile. "Ginny!" he crowed, arms open wide. "Coming along for a run with us?"

Ginny groaned to herself. _Leave it to Dam to make her sound no better than one of the fanwitches, timing my comings and goings to run into the team. _She shook her head and smirked. "I don't think you could keep up with me," she teased. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Harry tense.

Dam barked a laugh. "Now there's a challenge," he said. "I think you have to come with us now."

"Yeah," said one of the Vincenti twins – Ginny wasn't quite sure if it was Sors or Coelus. "Aren't you an Auror? We could use the protection." He waved at the crowd of fans. "I bet you could scare them off."

"Auror trainee," Ginny corrected. "And you have a wand, don't you? I think you can handle a couple of fanwitches; its not like they're going to be practicing Dark Magic on you."

"I have a wand, yes," grinned the Vincenti twin. "I'm just not sure who I want to use it on yet."

Ginny groaned. She was about to retort when Harry walked over.

"Our regular security is more than adequate to cover our run," he said quietly. "We certainly pay them enough."

Ginny strongly doubted that any of the burly security wizards waiting patiently at the end of the walkway would be half as effective as Harry himself, should any of them run into trouble. She'd seen their type before, more brawn than brains, with a repertoire of three or four basic – but incapacitating – hexes that they never hesitated to use. They were as much for show as protection, and Harry knew it too; many had been ended up in private security after being rejected from Magical Law Enforcement or the Aurors. It had become a joking threat of Ginny's mum when her boys were younger, that if they (usually meaning Charlie or the twins) didn't buckle down, they would end up no better than a security troll.

For a moment, it seemed like Harry remembered the joke too; he caught her eye, lips tight with suppressed amusement, and then looked at the largest guard, whose t-shirt barely covered his paunch. But a second later his face was a mask again and he turned away.

But Dam wasn't finished. "Come on, Ginny, take a run with us. Everyone's been lagging lately; I bet they'll run faster if you're in front of them."

Ginny's 'fuck no,' she wasn't going to let the team watch her bum as she ran, was on her lips when Harry spoke up again.

"Give it up, Dam. Ginny doesn't want to be ogled while she runs." Harry didn't look at her when he spoke.

"Actually, being ogled will probably make me run faster," said Ginny lightly. She leaned down and touched her toes. "What's your regular pace and distance?" She smiled up at Dam, knowing without looking that Harry had turned to stare at her. _That's what he gets for speaking for me. _She started jogging in place. "I'm ready when you are."

The second time Ginny saw Harry was the next morning at the door to his apartment. She had knocked, intending to ask Ron if he wanted to walk with her to the Ministry that day, even though she strongly suspected she would actually be waking him up instead.

Harry answered almost immediately. He was in his Arsenal training uniform and Ginny saw a duffle bag behind him on the floor. Too late, she realized it was earlier than she'd thought. She rocked awkwardly back on her heels.

"I guess Ron doesn't want to walk to work with me," she said after a moment of silence. Harry gave her a small grin.

"Ron isn't even awake yet," He confirmed. "Is that really a surprise?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'm sure he'll Floo into the Ministry at the last minute like always," she said. "Not even Hermione's been able to change his habits yet."

"It will be a miracle if she can," said Harry.

This was a commonly repeated topic of conversation, and by the formal tone in Harry's voice, Ginny knew he was only half paying attention to what he was saying. He hadn't made eye contact with her either, but when he backed into the flat and began fiddling with the tags on his duffle, she followed, letting the door swing shut.

"I didn't know you were leaving again. Where are you going?" she asked.

Harry gave her a sharp look. "Wimbourne and then Holyhead," he said. "Before home against Puddlemere and then Holyhead again. You had a talk about our schedule yesterday with Dam while you ran, didn't you? I heard you discussing the Harpies' new Chaser and her possible weaknesses."

Ginny flushed. _Leave it to Harry to have overheard the conversation and then catch her in the lie. _She tried some offense. "I didn't realize you were in the habit of listening in on my conversations," she said coolly. "Does Dam know you eavesdrop? He's your captain, you know."

Harry looked annoyed. "I know," he said. "And you're an Auror, aren't you? I assume they've already reiterated the importance of assuming every conversation can be overheard." He paused for a second. "Or are you just bad at _Muffliato?_"

That was low and he knew it. Ginny shrugged. "I don't know, am I? You're the one who taught me during the DA"

Instead of another retort, Harry just sighed. "You were one of the best," he said. "And I bet you are at the Aurors too. Ron even says so."

Ginny bit back her comment about whether Ron was even awake enough at training to notice – _she had crossed enough lines already -_and just nodded. "Thanks Harry. You were a good teacher." She paused. "And I shouldn't have made that comment about going to the Ministry. I . . . I know you have your reasons, even if I don't know what they are." It was true, but she couldn't help but let a little bit of bitterness into her next comment. "I know Ron knows your reasons, and Hermione. That's enough."

Harry nodded. "And your parents too, and Bill," he said. "You trust all them, don't you?"

Again, Ginny bit back a rush of irritation at how many members of her family Harry had confided in. She knew it was irrational, but given that she was now training to be an Auror, and Ron's equal, it would have been nice to have been included. Damn if she'd admit it though. She nodded instead. "I trust them," she agreed.

Harry nodded. "I suppose that's good enough," he said. He turned around and picked up his duffle. "Thanks Ginny," he said, as formally as he had when she'd apologized at the Burrow.

Ginny knew she was missing something, or had said something wrong, but unlike before, she didn't know what it was. There was no time to question it anyway. A series of banging doors from the hallway revealed that the rest of the Arrows were readying for their road trip. Harry moved past her to the door.

"Don't abuse Ron too much when you wake him; I think Hermione was over late last night," said Harry with a small grin.

Ginny nodded. "Good luck," she said. "And watch out for that Harpies' Chaser."

Harry gave her one more small smile before leaving. "I will, thanks Ginny."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Training that day started out better than usual; their morning lecturer had called in sick, so the trainees had an impromptu practice in minor jinxes and hexes. Not surprisingly, the former DA members had quickly established themselves as the best in the class, and Ginny felt some of the tension of the recent days ease as she dodged the simple jinxes a witch called Gemma Solis tried to throw at her. Gemma was fairly predictable, alternating back and forth between a basic stunning spell and then the jelly-legs jinx. Ginny threw up a shield and then sent a quick _Impedimenta _around it, followed by _Petrificus Totalus, _watching in satisfaction as her opponent toppled over.

Ginny removed the jinx and helped Gemma to her feet, shrugging off the witch's admiration. "I've had a lot of practice," she said.

Gemma nodded. "I heard Harry Potter ran a special defense class when he was at Hogwarts; is that where you learned?"

Ginny nodded. "Not just me; Ron and Parvati and Ernie were in the class too. And Terry," she added belatedly, thinking of her former classmate who had already quit training.

"You're all really good; Harry must have known a lot. I wonder why he didn't continue on with it?" The woman's question was devoid of any of the suspicion or innuendo Ginny had heard others use when talking about Harry, so her response was equally mild.

"I think he just likes Quidditch a lot," she said carefully. "He started on his house team when he was only eleven, you know."

Gemma looked thoughtful. "True, but . . ."

"GINNY! You're going down!" Ron bounded over, interrupting whatever Gemma was about to say, a gleeful look on his face. "Solis, you're against Copernicus now, unless you'd rather watch me destroy my sister."

"Big talk from a bloke who tripped over his own feet stepping out of the Floo this morning," countered Ginny. She raised her wand. "Better watch out, or I'm going to hex you in a location that both you and Hermione will find rather inconvenient."

Ron blanched, and Ginny took the opportunity to immobilize him with a quick non-verbal spell. "Thought so," she said in satisfaction.

But Ron was more than decent at dueling when he wasn't trying to take the mickey instead of focusing, and he and Ginny stayed evenly matched until the very end, when she had a sudden idea and shot a stream of cold water at his face. Ron sputtered and rubbed at his eyes in surprise while Ginny neatly conjured binding ropes to wrap around him. The room broke into applause, and for the first time, Ginny realized that all the other trainees had stopped their own sparring to watch. She gave a joking curtsey and freed Ron, who gave her a rueful grin and then a high five. "Nice one, Gin," he said.

"Yes, yes, quite excellent. Quite excellent indeed." The voice was familiar, but still, Ginny was surprised. Head Auror Gawain Robards had not yet bothered to meet with the new training class. He stood at the edge of the room with several of their instructors and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic. Ginny supposed she should be more nervous to have been observed dueling in front of the Minister, as opposed to the head of the Aurors, but she'd known Kingsley since she was fourteen. It was rather difficult to be awed by someone who'd taught her and her brothers how to make and then drink something called a "Dragon in Hell" while sitting around her kitchen table at the Burrow.

Robards was another matter. He'd become head of the Aurors under Rufus Scrimgeour after Cornelius Fudge was sacked as Minister, and had held the position throughout the War, even under Voldemort's puppet minister, Pius Thicknesse. No one questioned his loyalty, exactly, but at the same time, Ginny knew she wasn't the only one who considered what kind of character it took to remain in a position of power throughout so many changes in government. Her first week of training, Ginny had seen Gawain from a afar, talking in what appeared a friendly manner with Dolores Umbridge, and that alone was enough to put her on her guard.

"Miss Weasley, isn't it?" Robards separated himself from the other senior Aurors and walked up to her. "That was an impressive display of defense; you seem to have been born for this type of work."

Robards was obviously buttering her up for something; the compliment was too exaggerated to be genuine. Ginny shrugged. "They were fairly simple defensive spells; we learned most of them at Hogwarts." Too late, it occurred to her that Robards probably knew exactly where she'd learned the spells and who had taught her and the other former DA members. He didn't seem upset though, just looked rather thoughtful.

"Well, it was a particularly strong display of wandwork anyway," he said. "And if you have a few minutes, I'd like to have a word with you in my office. We can talk about what you think of Auror training so far." The request was obviously not as optional as Robards made it sound. Ginny nodded stiffly, and, with time for more than a quick glance at Ron, followed the Auror out of the room.

The Head Auror's office was less ostentatious than Ginny expected. File cabinets crowded against one wall, their drawers opening and closing in random order as papers from a large pile flew into the correct folders. Another wall held an enormous map of Britain with tiny, sparkling pins presumably marking places of suspicious activity. Robards' desk was wide, but rather battered looking, and the chair he gestured Ginny into was uncomfortable. He settled himself behind the desk.

"Tea?" he asked. A pot on the credenza was already beginning to steam.

"Yes, thank you," said Ginny. She needed something to do with her hands. She watched carefully as the pot of tea poured itself into two cups and then floated gently across the room. Once Robards had taken a sip, Ginny did too, and he smiled.

"You paid attention in your lesson on poisonings, I see," he said.

"That, and when I was at Hogwarts, Umbridge tried to get information out of us by serving tea spiked with Veritaserum," said Ginny bluntly. She didn't know what Robards' reaction would be, but the Auror merely smiled benignly.

"Ahh yes. Some of Dolores' methods might have been a bit . . . overly enthusiastic while she was at Hogwarts," he said. "But I cannot fault her dedication to the Ministry and to the education of young witches and wizards."

"As long as they're pure blood, you mean," said Ginny.

Robards' mouth tightened for a minute before he relaxed it into a smile again. "That was an . . . unfortunate agenda, born out of a need to remain in the favor of those running the Ministry at the time. As you know, tests of blood status have been abolished for nearly a year, and Dolores has been properly admonished. She is working hard for the current administration." The Auror peered at her. "I assume you don't have any objections to our present Minister of Magic?"

Ginny sighed to herself. Her father had been right; Umbridge was going to get away with her treatment of the DA while at Hogwarts and her abuse of Muggleborns during the War. She shook her head slowly. "I like Kingsley," she said.

"Minister Shacklebolt's platform for reforming the Ministry is somewhat unconventional, abolishing so many of our former departments and committees," said Robards. "But he has, for now, left me to run the Auror department as I see fit, given my experience and loyalty." He paused for a moment, and Ginny wondered if she was supposed to agree. She gave an odd little bob to her head and sipped her tea instead. It seemed to be enough. Robards nodded back before continuing.

"What the majority of the public does not seem to understand is that the elimination of Lord Voldemort has not eliminated the risks from Dark Magic. It has greatly reduced them, for now, but we cannot afford to be complacent, not for a single minute." Robards put both hands on his desk and peered at her, waiting.

Ginny nodded. "Constant vigilance, like Moody used to say. It's why I joined the Aurors." It wasn't her only reason, of course, or even the most important one, but she knew it was the right answer here.

Indeed, Robards nodded, looking pleased. "You have the right attitude, Miss Weasley. And the skills and talent to follow through." His lips tightened. "Unlike others, who, despite their considerable and unique power and knowledge, persist in their refusals to help."

And there it was, Robards' reason for the meeting. Ginny put down her tea, debating how much to say. She decided on ignorance. "Excuse me?" she asked.

Robards seemed to buy her act. He leaned back in his chair again. "I assume you are aware that Harry Potter did some work on behalf of the Ministry after Voldemort was vanquished? He's close friends with your family, is he not?" Ginny noted immediately that the Auror did not acknowledge it was Harry who had done the vanquishing. She knew that denying a connection would be futile. Instead, she wrinkled her nose as if confused.

"He and my brother are best mates, yes," she admitted. "And they worked together rebuilding Hogwarts. But plenty of others did too." She gave a little shrug. "But they never really included me in their plans; I'm just the annoying little sister, you know?" She didn't really have to act that part.

Robards nodded, a tad impatiently. "Yes, yes, he helped with the rebuilding. But his talents were better suited elsewhere; there is so much important work to be done. And in the middle of it all he just . . . quit. No explanation."

"He got an amazing offer to play for the Arrows," said Ginny. "I'm sure that was the reason."

Robards shook his head. "Our intelligence shows that Harry and the Arrows did not connect until after he refused . . . I mean, after he decided to stop working for the Aurors." The man gave an aggrieved sigh. "We were going to allow him to skip training completely; give him his own office and all means necessary to pursue this particularly vital mission. He was . . . he _is_. . . uniquely qualified for it. For a number of reasons. And now we're scrambling." He fixed Ginny with a serious stare. "It would be an enormous benefit to the Aurors, not to mention, I should add, to your own career, if you could use your personal connections to convince Harry to return to his previous work."

"You want me to talk Harry into quitting professional Quidditch and returning to the Aurors?" Ginny spoke slowly. Robards nodded, pleased that she'd understood so quickly.

"Yes, exactly. We plan to speak to your brother Ron, but he's not likely . . . I mean, his relationship to Harry makes things a bit trickier, you understand. But you . . . you could convince him that he's really needed here."

Ginny bit back a snort at Robards' assumption she had any influence over Harry at all; insulting her boss, particularly this boss, was unwise. But that didn't mean she had to agree with the man either, particularly when it was obvious that his interest had no consideration at all for Harry's well-being. "I don't think Harry is the type to ever be convinced to do something he doesn't want to," she said. It wasn't exactly true; Ginny knew how much Harry valued the opinions of her parents and Ron. He'd probably listen to Bill too, and might be persuaded by any of them, depending on the issue. But there was no way in hell she was going to talk to Harry about rejoining the Aurors when he obviously didn't want to. And listening to Robards made Ginny suspect that Harry's "good reasons" for walking away were actually great ones.

"Harry doesn't really respect my opinion," she said. "I'm kind of like a little sister to him, and I don't think he's quite realized I'm not a little girl anymore." Ginny was exaggerating; she knew Harry's opinion of her wasn't quite as patronizing as she made it sound, not anymore. But it wasn't lying to say Harry wouldn't listen to her opinion about something as important as rejoining the Aurors. She wasn't even sure what he thought about her own decision to work for them. She shook her head firmly. "I'm the wrong person to ask."

"And is there a 'right' person?" Robards was obviously not going to let the matter die. "After all, Miss Weasley, I think you are being a bit too modest about your abilities. Member of the DA, fought at the Ministry of Magic and when Hogwarts was invaded by Death Eaters, plus your participation in the final battle." He was quiet for a moment before continuing. "Not to mention, of course, that you are one of the few people alive who can say they've been possessed by Lord Voldemort himself. Harry being another."

Ginny forced herself to count to ten. Still, she couldn't quite keep the anger out of her voice when she replied. "You want to exploit what happened to me in the Chamber. When I was eleven." It wasn't a question.

For the first time, Robards looked a little unsettled. "I don't think 'exploit' is the right word, Miss Weasley," he said. "But you and Mr. Potter have a unique shared experience that could be extremely useful to the Aurors' work going forward." Ginny detected a sudden eagerness on the man's face. "Both of you possessed, and yet, neither of you turned Dark. Why is that, do you think? Harry was even able to save you from the Chamber and the diary despite harboring a second bit of Voldemort's soul inside him – why do you think that is? It could be an interesting thing to explore. And, as I mentioned before, it might be possible for you to . . . skip certain aspects of your training year in exchange?"

Ginny shook her head. Who did this man think he was, offering what was nearly a bribe, in exchange for her cooperation in something that was intensely personal and still painful? In the years since her First, she had only rarely talked about the Chamber, and then only with people she both respected and trusted. Robards was neither. She and Harry hadn't discussed it since their fight after her father had been attacked by Nagini; there was really nothing more to say about it. Besides, Robards had it wrong.

"My brother Ron saved me, mostly. Harry didn't get there until the end. He brought Fawkes." She grimaced. "And I'm sure Harry feels the same way as I do, that revisiting our experiences with possession is not something to do lightly, as if we were curiosities to be studied. Voldemort is gone, and there is no way he can possess anyone ever again. That's the end of it."

Robards opened his mouth as if to say something, appeared to think better of it, and then closed his mouth again. He nodded. "Very well, Miss Weasley. I can see you're mind is made up. For now at least."

Ginny didn't like the implied threat in the man's voice, but she nodded. "It is, yes."

Robards stood up. "I daresay, some of the information you will be learning in your training may serve to change your mind about assisting. The best Aurors understand the importance of putting their own personal . . . concerns behind the fight against Dark Magic. Our job is to protect the innocent from evil, you know."

Ginny nodded stiffly. Robards' speech sounded a little too close to the notion of 'The Greater Good' that had fueled Grindelwald's rise to power. She didn't say so though; she only wanted to leave the meeting as quickly as possible. "I understand, sir," she said.

When Ginny arrived back with her training class, Ron looked at her curiously, but she gave a slight shake of her head, telling him she'd explain later. She'd have to warn him that Robards may be reaching out to him next, too. She sighed before walking over to a table with a number of small vials on it; apparently they were leaning to identify way dangerous poisons might be hidden in innocuous potions. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her senior instructors leave the room abruptly after glancing at her; if she had to guess, she'd bet Robards had just sent the man a message. She sighed. Training was likely about to get a lot more difficult for her. Still, she wouldn't have done it any differently.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny stared at the mountain of dirty clothes in the corner of her flat and groaned to herself. There was no way around it, either she had to visit laundry room or else start wearing pajamas to work. She waved her wand and the clothes piled themselves messily into the brand new laundry basket her mum had given her when she moved in. Shirts and trousers spilled over the side and Ginny sighed. This was going to take her all night.

Indeed, she'd only been in the laundry room for ten minutes before she realized just how unprepared she was to do something as simple as clean her own clothing. The building, fancy as it was, boasted the newest sort of washing equipment. Ginny knew the spell to get them to start, but no matter how many times she tapped her wand on the top of the lid and said the words, it refused to turn on. She swore, wondering if she was actually going to have to resort to contacting her mum.

"It's Separate – Water – Inside – Spell – Hang. Or SWISH."

Ginny turned around. Harry was standing at the door to the laundry room, a large bag slung over his shoulder. He walked in and pointed at the metal bin into which Ginny had shoved her clothes. "Water first, then put the clothing inside. It won't work otherwise."

"Thanks," she muttered, pulling everything back out. "We wash differently at home. I haven't used one of these."

Harry was carefully dividing his clothing between two more of the bins, white things in one and the darker clothing in the other. "I forgot to separate my first time," he admitted. "All my sheets and towels and . . . pants and things turned rather gray." He sealed the bins and tapped each one with his wand, murmuring something under his breath. After a minute Ginny heard the sound a water sloshing inside.

Ginny frowned at her pile of clothes, which she had removed from a single washer. "Separate first, right," she said.

"I can help," said Harry easily. "It takes practice to know which clothing goes where at first; I had to ask your mum for help the first few times."

Ginny snorted. "I'm sure my mum is just waiting for me to ask her," she said. "She gave me lessons in basic cleaning spells before I moved in, but I'll admit I probably didn't pay as much attention as I should have."

"She came to me right after a visit to Fred and George's," laughed Harry. "She told me that she usually only gives one of her children six months to learn how to keep house, but I guess with Fred's being injured and all, he and George got an extension."

Ginny shuddered at the mention of Fred; she still hadn't been able to completely erase the image of him, bloody and battered, being carried into the Great Hall by George and Percy. That they'd laid him next to Remus' and Tonks' bodies while her mum and Fleur and Madam Pomfrey worked frantically to save his life hadn't made the memories any easier, despite his eventual recovery. She didn't say anything for a minute, but shoved a shirt into one of the bins with a bit more force than necessary.

Harry misunderstood. "Don't worry, I won't touch anything delicate," he said.

It broke the tension Ginny was feeling. She bit back a laugh. "Thanks," she said with a grin. "I won't either." She pointed to the floor, where a pair of boxers covered with little arrows had missed the wash. "You have team underwear?"

Harry scooped them up, blushing. "They were a gift from a fan," he said. "And . . . I may have waited a bit too long to do my laundry once. They were the only ones I had left."

Why are you doing your own laundry anyway? Doesn't the team hire someone for that?"

Harry shrugged. "My uniforms, yes; the team has a service for them. And I guess most of the rest of the blokes send their regular laundry out instead of doing it themselves."

"Why don't you?" Ginny could think of any number of things she'd rather be doing than her laundry, if she could afford to have someone else take care of it.

Harry shrugged again. "I don't mind. It's not something I need to spend my money on anyway." He was quiet for second. "Ron does his own laundry, so I figured I would too."

"Oh." Ginny mentally kicked herself. Of course Harry would be sensitive to the fact that Ron couldn't afford to send his laundry out; couldn't have afforded it even if he wasn't already paying part of Ginny's rent. She sighed. Stupid, noble git, Harry was.

"Umm, now that I know how, if you ever need . . . I mean, if you or Ron ever need . . . since you travel a lot, you probably don't have as much time. And I do. Have the time, I mean." Ginny stuttered over the offer. "I could do your laundry. If you ever needed it." It was the least she could offer; Harry was making it possible for Ginny to live in her flat. She wasn't even sure she'd ever properly thanked him, actually. The proposal had been presented to her soon after she'd announced she was joining the Aurors and started looking for a place to live; she'd been more annoyed than grateful at what she assumed was her mum's meddling. By the time she had come to appreciate her luck at living here, it felt too late to say anything about it. But now that omission felt glaringly rude. She stumbled over her words again.

"If I didn't say it before, and I'm pretty sure I didn't, umm, thank you. For letting Ron live with you so he can pay part of my rent."

Harry looked surprised. "I would have let Ron live with me anyway; I'm kind of used to him by now, you know?" He smirked. "And now that he has his own room, I don't have to hear him snore."

"But to not charge him rent, that's very generous," Ginny persisted. "I'm sure there are a lot of other things you could do with that money." If she was going to thank Harry, the least he could do was acknowledge it.

Harry looked embarrassed. "Yeah, well, umm, the Arrows pay pretty well. And . . . I haven't really had a lot of things to spend money on before, you know? So I umm . . . . I've saved up enough."

_He's modestly reminding you how rich he is, Ginny. _The voice in her head sounded a bit like Ron, and Ginny remembered overhearing her brother talking to the twins about seeing Harry's vault at Gringotts. He probably didn't even notice the money he was spending on the flat. But Ginny couldn't fault Harry for his wealth, indeed, he was so quiet about it, she suspected most people didn't know about it at all. He was quite the contrast to that prat from school, Draco Malfoy, who'd never missed an opportunity let everyone know exactly how much money he had and exactly how he planned to spend it. Other than the new wireless she'd seen in his flat, Ginny wasn't sure Harry had spent any of his money on enjoyment at all.

"Well, it's nice of you anyway," she said. "Thank you. And the offer still stands; I'm able to do your laundry if you ever need it." She smirked. "Before you have to resort to wearing fan-witch underwear again."

Harry smiled. "Thank you. I may take you up on that after our next extended road trip." His face grew more serious. "But that's not the only thing I have to thank you for, it seems." He leaned back against one of the washers. "I heard about your meeting with Robards."

"Who told you . . ." Ginny began. "Ron, right?" She'd told her brother about her meeting with Robards during the week of the Arrows' road trip; they'd had dinner together twice when Hermione had been working late.

Harry nodded. "I hope you don't mind."

Ginny shook her head; she wouldn't have expected her brother to keep news like that from Harry. And, truth be told, it was easier than trying to tell Harry herself. He'd already made it clear that Ron knew a lot more than she did about his reasons for leaving the Aurors.

"I hope I didn't say the wrong thing."

"You didn't! You were great!" Harry's vehemence surprised her. "I know how persuasive Robards can be; he offered to give you a boost at the Aurors didn't he?"

Ginny nodded. "It made me feel like all I had to do was present you to him on platter and boom, I'd leapfrog through training." She grimaced. "What an arse."

"So you didn't consider it, for even a minute?" Harry's voice was quiet.

Now it was Ginny's turn for vehemence. "Absolutely not." She felt a pang of something, and then realized it was hurt. She shook her head. "I would never . . .I hope you know I would never . . ." She was horrified to feel a sudden prickling in her eyes. She turned away as if she was checking to make sure her washer was still running, poking at it with her wand while she tried to control her breath.

She was surprised a second later to feel a soft hand on her shoulder. "Now _I'm_ the arse. I'm so sorry, Ginny. I know you would never do that." Harry gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "That was a moronic thing to say."

Ginny finally turned around, stepping out of Harry's touch. "It was," she confirmed. "But I guess we've both stuck our feet in our mouths lately. I suppose we should call it even."

"Deal," said Harry. He held out his hand. Ginny took it, and as they shook, she had the sudden incongruous thought that this was the first time she and Harry had ever touched in a way that was anything more than teasing. She took a deep breath.

"There's something more," she said. "Something I didn't even completely tell Ron." Her statement coincided in the completion of the wash cycles in the machines, and the sudden silence made what she was going to say feel heavier.

Harry's eyes were wary. "What?" he asked. "I know Robards gave you a guilt trip about the importance of using all means necessary to fight dark magic." He shook his head. "I can't fault him for his dedication to the elimination of evil, I just wish he . . ." Harry stopped. "But there's more?"

Ginny nodded. She opened on of her washing bins and contemplated the wet clothes inside. "This thing will dry them too?"

Harry understood she wasn't quite ready to talk. He walked over. "The proper drying charm will make sure nothing shrinks." He closed the bin again and pointed his wand at it. The spell was the same as the ordinary drying charm Ginny used on her hair, although the wand movement was different. She moved to the second bin.

"Robards thinks that you and I, together, would be especially successful at fighting Dark Magic." She kept her back to him. "Because we've both been possessed by Voldemort."

Harry was quiet for so long that Ginny wondered if he'd heard her. She was about to turn around when she heard him take a breath in.

"And did he tell you exactly what he wanted us to do with this experience?" Harry's voice was close. She shook her head.

"He didn't say, not exactly. I was too busy telling him that you would never listen to me about coming back to the Aurors." She turned around. "But you know, don't you?"

Harry nodded. He looked . . . guilty? "It's related to what I was doing for the Aurors last year. Before . . . before I quit. Because of what they wanted me to do next." He took a step forward and grabbed her hand. "Ginny, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I should have told you a long time ago, before you joined the Aurors. I should have known they'd try to . . ." He broke off.

"Try to what? Exploit our experience? That's what I told Robards I wouldn't let them do to us."

Harry looked surprised. "You actually said that to him? To his face?" He gave a low whistle. "Good for you." He sighed. "Hopefully he'll let it drop."

Ginny knew there was more Harry wasn't telling her, that there was a bigger reason Robards was so eager to have both her and Harry working together. And she knew Harry would tell her everything if she asked him to. The thought should have pleased her. Instead, she suddenly didn't want to know, despite – or maybe because of – the fact that it concerned her. Talking to Harry about the Chamber always seemed to end badly; the last time, Ginny'd had nightmares for a week. Now she was an Auror; she couldn't make her work so personal, or she'd end up going crazy, or quitting like Terry Boot had.

Harry was still looking at her and Ginny realized she'd been quiet for a while. She looked back at the washing bins. "How long do they take to dry?"

"About ten minutes for a normal load. And then I'd offer to teach you the folding spells, but I'm terrible at them." He gave her a small grin. "I just pile everything back in my laundry bag and dump it on the floor of my closet.

Ginny's memory of Harry's almost unnaturally tidy room revised itself in her mind. She grinned. "Maybe my mum will come and give us both a lesson. Especially if we include Ron too. She'd hate to think all three of us were walking around wrinkled."

Harry nodded. "Sounds good. . . . And Ginny?" His voice was serious again.

Ginny waited.

"I umm, I just want you to know that I _would_ listen to your opinion. About a lot of things. I guess I haven't ever asked you before. About what you thought."

It was a huge recognition on his part, Ginny knew. She walked forward and touched his arm. "I haven't always acted in a way that would make you think my opinion was important."

"Maybe not always, but definitely some things," he said. "I should have asked your opinion about joining the Arrows, for example. You would have had a particularly good insight, I think. Because . . ."

"There you are, Harry! Is this how you get Ginny alone? By hiding out in the laundry room where the rest of us don't go?" Damacles' voice sounded overly loud and he seemed to take up a lot of space in the small laundry room.

Harry backed quickly away from Ginny; whatever he'd been about to say to her was lost. He gave his captain a casual grin. "Just making sure she knows how to do her laundry, Dam. I promised her mum I'd show her how." He pleaded an apology with his eyes and Ginny gave him a small nod of understanding. She scooped up her basket of clean clothes. "I'm about done here anyway. Thanks for your help, Harry. I'll bet my mum sends you a treacle tart for helping me."

Dam darted forward and poked his wand at the basket. A pair of Ginny's lacy pink knickers floated into air. "I'll help you next time, Ginny. As long as I get to look at things like these."

Ginny didn't even have to put her laundry down to use her wand. Dam yelped as he suddenly rose several inches off the ground, suspended by his own underwear.

Harry barked a laugh. "I warned you the first day she moved in, didn't I?" He looked at Ginny. "You'd better let him down or he won't be able to sit on his broom tomorrow."

Once he was back on the ground, Dam rubbed his bum and gave Ginny an appraising look. "I'm liking you more and more, Miss Weasley. You'll have to come watch a game one of these days. So you can see me at my best."

Ginny nodded, speaking more to Harry than Dam. "I'd like that," she said.

Dam nodded too, as if it was settled. "Good then. I'll talk to our publicist about getting some tickets sent over." He clapped Harry on the back. "We're off to the Leaky, are you joining us?"

Harry nodded. "Let me just put my laundry away." He touched Ginny's arm. "Talk to you later?"

Ginny nodded, feeling oddly disappointed. "Of course," she said. "Anytime."


	6. Snitches, Brooms, Bats

True to his word, Dam stopped by Ginny's flat the very next night with a ticket to the Arrows' upcoming game against the Tutshill Tornados. "It's an away game," he said apologetically. "Not as fun, but we can use all the friendly faces we can get; they've been our biggest competition all year."

"Thanks," said Ginny. She looked at the ticket. "I think this date works with my training."

"It does," grinned Dam. "Ron's going too; Harry asked him and Hermione already." He held up another ticket. "You don't mind sitting with them, I assume? Unless you'd like to bring a date yourself, of course." He gave her a questioning look. "Is there anyone _special_ I should know about?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm quite single, Dam, and I think you know that."

Dam chuckled. "I do, that. But wanted to hear it directly from your mouth." He drew out the last word suggestively, dropping his gaze to Ginny's lips.

Ginny sighed to herself. The Arrows' captain really was quite attractive, even if blondes were not her usual type. She suspected that at least some of his 'ladies' man' persona was an act; indeed, his exploits didn't seem to be mentioned in the gossip columns any more than the other players'. She'd have to ask Harry how much of Dam's flirting was real and how much was an act; it would be wise of her to keep her wits about her when it came to Damacles Clarke.

She neatly plucked the second ticket out of his hand. "I'll bring my friend Parvati," she said sweetly. "We train together, and I think you and she might just hit it off. For a night at least." Ginny waggled her eyebrows.

Dam gave no indication he'd been beaten. "Parvati, huh? I look forward to meeting her."

HPHPHPHP

Not surprisingly, Parvati was more than delighted to take Ginny's second ticket. In the days before the match, she talked about the various Arrows players so much that Ginny was rather glad she hadn't mentioned that Dam already knew her name. Even so, Ginny had to endure long-winded comparisons of the Vincenti twins (really, she had no idea if one was a little broader in the shoulders than the other), contemplation about whether Adam Ramsey was really as shy as he seemed, and a discussion about whether Wilder had a girlfriend or if the witch he was often photographed with was just for show. After Parvati pulled her into a conversation about "Quidditch arses", Angelina Johnson had taken to flooing to Fred and George's shop during their breaks in training; Ginny suspected she was dating one (or both) of them.

It got to the point where Ginny began making excuses about extra work just to get a break from Parvati's incessant chatter. Still, Ginny couldn't bring herself to ignore the other witch completely; Parvati had lost her best friend and best companion for gossip when Lavender Brown had been killed during the Final Battle, and Ginny knew how much she was missed. Even Parvati's own twin – studious as she was - hadn't filled the same void.

"I know Kipling Cross prefers blokes, so he's out." Parvati took a bite of her sandwich. It was the day before the match and Ginny had agreed to have lunch; she'd be free of Parvati's prattle soon anyway. "But what about Harry?"

Ginny almost choked on her pumpkin juice. "Harry? Harry's not gay. I mean, I assume he's not. I think I'd have heard if he was."

Parvati thumped Ginny on the back and laughed. "Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I'm sure he's not gay. Remember the way he mooned all over Cho Chang at school? Padma said that Cho kept expecting him to ask her out, but he never did. She assumed he was just too shy."

"Cho? I don't remember that at all," said Ginny. She tried to remember back to those years and whether she'd ever heard Ron say anything, but nothing stood out. She made a face. "That's when I was dating Michael, and then Dean. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I certainly didn't notice Harry mooning over anyone."

Parvati grinned. "At one point, Cho thought Harry didn't ask her out because he fancied you. I guess she saw him and Ron catch you kissing Dean and thought Harry looked rather put out about it." Parvati nudged her. "Is it true? You and Harry?"

Ginny snorted. "Not likely," she said. "The only attention Harry's ever paid me was as a guinea pig for one of Fred and George's pranks, or to take the mickey when he and Ron caught me kissing Dean behind that tapestry." She huffed. "Trust me, the only reason Harry was put out was because he had to listen to Ron bluster on about it for far too long. Harry's never had the slightest interest in who I'm with." She sighed. "Not that there's been much to hear about lately."

"All the more reason we're going to have fun at the game tomorrow," said Parvati. "If Harry's not your type, there are certainly plenty of other players to choose from. I call Dam, though."

"I never said Harry's not my . . . oh, never mind," said Ginny. She didn't bother explaining to Parvati. "I'm just excited to see Quidditch."

HPHPHPHP

Contrary to Dam's concerns, there were a fair number of Arrows' fans at the Tutshill stadium; the two teams were neck and neck to be top of the league and excitement ran high. The noise blocked out most of Parvati's commentary as they walked higher and higher – to excellent seats, it seemed – and when they got to one of the highest boxes, Ginny didn't mind at all when Parvati grabbed a pair of Omnioculars and seated herself in the front row "for the best view". Ginny was more than happy to sit further back next to Angelina – whom she hadn't known was coming – and George.

_There's one question answered._

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here?" asked Ginny. "You could have helped me listen to Parvati all week." Ginny nudged Angelina before sliding down to make room for Ron and Hermione.

Angelina grinned. "You just answered your own question," she said. "Harry got us tickets; I haven't seen a professional Quidditch match in a long time. Did you know that Katie plays for Tutshill? She got Fred a ticket, so he's sitting on the home side."

"Katie, huh?" Ginny filed away all the new information to be used at the most opportune moment. "That was nice of Harry," she said idly.

"He's been good about keeping in touch," said Angelina. "He stops by Fred and George's shop a lot when I'm there, too. George jokes that Harry wants to keep an eye on his investment, but I think he just needs a break from Ron and Hermione sometimes; they keep forgetting to set silencing charms."

There was a lot of information in that sentence and Ginny focused first on the most interesting first. "His investment?"

Angelina looked at Ginny in surprise. "Harry gave the twins his Tri-Wizard winnings to start up the shop, didn't you know?" She chuckled. "They only got up the nerve to tell your parents this year; until then, your mum worried they'd won the money gambling or something."

Ginny knew this; her mum had fretted more than once about how Fred and George had managed to pay for premises during the first year Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was open. But they'd actually gotten the money from Harry? He'd never said a word about it. Ginny didn't even realize that the money had been awarded; Cedric Diggory's death and Voldemort's return had overshadowed everything else that year.

"I . . . I didn't realize," she said. "He never said anything."

"Well he wouldn't, would he? That's so Harry," said Angelina conversationally. "But I figured you would have heard after the twins gave up the secret."

Ginny shook her head. "I didn't, no," she said.

Angelina shrugged. "Harry's pretty embarrassed about it; I think George here finally figured that out." She elbowed him. "Didn't you?"

George looked up from the program he was studying. "Huh? What?"

Angelina rolled her eyes. "I said that you've finally stopped teasing Harry and calling him your 'esteemed benefactor,' she said."

Ginny thought George actually looked a bit uncomfortable. "Oh yeah, that. I've stopped. Fred too. Harry really didn't like it." He looked past Angelina to Ginny. "That means you can't take the mickey about it either, okay? No matter what else you feel the need to tease Harry about, that's off limits."

Ginny was indignant. "Me? What about him? And the rest of you? Remember the Newts? And my dress? And who was it that was responsible for putting a freezing charm on all my bras? That was Harry, wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that one," laughed George. "That was mostly Ron, although Harry did help. And before you hex her, let me just say that Hermione wanted nothing to do with it."

"She stayed at work late that night, I remember," Ginny muttered. It had been more than embarrassing, walking around with her nipples hardened little points under her shirt until she figured out what was going on. She was just relieved it had happened before she'd started work.  
"It may not have been Harry's idea, but I certainly remember him laughing," she said darkly. "I still haven't gotten any of you back for that one."

Whatever George was about to say was interrupted by a swell of noise from the crowd. The announcers voice boomed out over the stadium, and a moment later, the Arrows were introduced.

Being that Arsenal was the away team, the announcer's voice was not terribly excited as he called out the players' names and positions. Still, the large number of Arrows' fans in the stadium gave up a decent cheer as each player was called. Ginny watched in bemusement as Parvati nearly fell out of the box leaning forward to catch sight of the players as they circled the pitch one by one. A much louder roar startled her and she looked up, assuming the first Tutshill player had just been announced.

Instead, her gaze landed on an enormous moving photo of Harry, flashing on the scoreboards around the stadium. It was the same photo she had seen winking in and out of existence in his flat and Ginny watched his expression change from embarrassed to rather cocky over and over again, until an even louder roar told her that the real thing had just appeared.

Ginny couldn't help but roll her eyes at the oohs and ahhs that accompanied him as he sped around the pitch, so low on his broom he was practically flat. _Did he have to show off, flying like that? _"Save it for the game, Harry," she muttered.

Ron gave her a puzzled look. Save what? "He always flies like that when he's announced; wants to get it over as quickly as possible. You should see him at home games. Once, he flew too low and a witch managed to shoot a pair of her knickers right at him; caught on the end of his broom." He laughed at the memory. "Actually, I think it was one of the regulars outside our building. She walked up to him the next day and asked for them back."

"If he hates it so much, he could fly just as quickly without using the Babcock posture," disagreed Ginny. "One that doesn't show off his bum quite so much."

Ron elbowed her. "Since when do you pay so much attention to Harry's bum?" he asked.

"I don't," said Ginny, annoyed. She pointed down at the pitch where Dam had just been announced. He flew in the same pose as Harry's but much more lazily, as if he wanted the entire stadium to get a good, long look at his admittedly trim backside before he had to park himself in front of the goal posts. "See? He was just grandstanding like Dam is. Probably in his contract or something, that he has to show off a certain number of times per game." She shook her head. "Professional Quidditch players. It's nothing like at Hogwarts."

"No, it's not," said Ron. "It's a lot harder."

Ginny knew that, of course. She'd been to the World Cup and seen what Quidditch looked like when it was played by the top professionals, but she hadn't really transferred that knowledge to consider that Harry might be that good too. Truly, she'd rather expected him to look more or less like he had when he'd played Seeker at Hogwarts. He'd been good, more than good, actually, probably one of the best Seekers Gryffindor had ever had. But he'd still looked like a boy playing for his House team. Now, watching him fly intently around the pitch, seamlessly weaving in and out of the other players while he kept his eyes peeled for the Snitch, Ginny suddenly had a strange sense of understanding about why Robards was so upset that Harry had left the Aurors. If he put as much focus and energy into catching dark wizards as he did looking for the Snitch, he probably would have finished up whatever special mission he'd been working on in no time.

It gave Ginny sudden pause, to realize that. _Why hadn't Harry finished his work to fight dark magic first? _She knew him well enough to understand that it must have been something much more than the usual Ministry overreaching for him to walk away so abruptly. Ron knew, and for a second, Ginny considered asking him. But in the next, she knew he wouldn't, and even more, she wanted to hear it from Harry himself, at some point. And he'd made it more than clear he didn't want to tell her right now; he obviously thought that becoming an Auror didn't give Ginny any special right to know. But it had to be big, of that much, she was certain.

She turned her attention back to the game. The Arrows' Chasers were fantastic, and she watched, enthralled, trying to recognize and memorize some of their maneuvers. But her eyes kept drifting back to Harry; he seemed to be featured on the enormous screens more often than befitted his relatively removed status from the action of the game. He might as well have been alone in the stadium, so little did he seem to notice anyone around him. Not once in the first two hours of the game did Ginny see his intense gaze waver or lose focus.

And then, suddenly, he was looping around the back of the opposing goal posts and speeding towards the ground so quickly his uniform became a blur. The sound in the stadium rose suddenly, high-pitched excitement and groans of despair mingling together as Harry almost skimmed the earth before rising back into the air, the Snitch clutched triumphantly in his fist.

Several thousand Arrows' fans leapt to their feet and cheered while nearly four times that number cursed and yelled. Both teams sank to the ground, and Ginny could see Harry and his teammates slapping each other on the back and waving at the crowd as they descended.

"C'mon, Ginny. I want to hear both team's post-game press talks." Ron was tugging on her arm and pulling her out of the box. Hermione gave her a sympathetic grimace over Ron's behavior, but it occurred to Ginny that the other witch's attitude might be more related to the fact that Hermione now had to endure still more talk of Quidditch and less because she was commiserating with Ginny about her brother's behavior. Still, she let herself be carried along by the crowd.

Many of the disgruntled Tutshill fans departed immediately after the match ended, but enough stayed that they, along with a group of excited Arrows' fans, created a decent-sized crowd in the tent for the post-game press conference. Ginny listened to the Arrows' coach – Will McMahon – answer questions about the effectiveness of several new formations the Chasers had developed. Arsenal had been up by only 30 points when Harry caught the Snitch and there was a discussion between Coach McMahon and a writer from Which Broomstick about whether the it made sense to go back to the old playbook instead.

Ginny tuned out when the Daily Prophet's Quidditch correspondent raised his hand. Pansy Parkinson had been an idiot at school only known for her family's money and her rather unfortunate resemblance to a big. She'd never played a match in her life and only held the plum job because her father had been friends with the old editor and had paid to outfit the entire sports department at the paper with new equipment. Ginny had heard rumblings that now that the Prophet was trying to reestablish itself as an independent entity and not the Ministry's puppet, and that Pansy's days may be numbered. She hoped so; reading her attempts to describe something as simple as a _Snubbed Feint_ was almost physically painful for her, and she knew most serious Quidditch fans agreed.

A sudden movement to the side of the press-conference table caught her eye. Dam and Harry were standing there having what appeared to be a lively discussion. Dam was gesturing, and appeared to be trying to convince Harry of something; he kept smiling and shaking his head at his captain. Dam didn't appear to be taking no for an answer; every time Harry took a step or two back, Dam followed him, wagging his finger. At one point, Ginny thought Harry looked towards her, a question on his face. But before she could puzzle out what he wanted, he'd looked away and was talking quietly to Dam again.

A second later, Ginny understood the fuss when Coach McMahon finished speaking and Dam took his place in front of the reporters. He seemed to have won the argument; his arm was clamped firmly around Harry, pulling him along to answer questions as well. Harry looked rather disgruntled, but not really upset, and he stood which his arms crossed, rocking slightly back and forth, while Dam answered a few general questions about the state of the team. He'd just finished explaining to Pansy that no, Legilimency required too much quiet concentration for the team to be able to use it for communication during a game when he twisted suddenly and shoved Harry out in front of him.

"Here's the bloke you want to talk to, of course. Won the game quite handily for us and barely broke a sweat doing it, didn't he?"

Until that moment, the press conference had been rather mundane. As soon as Dam spoke, however, a number of reports began shooting sparks with their wands, asking to be recognized to speak. Ginny turned to Ron. "Why the fuss? Haven't the press talked to Harry before?"

Ron shook his head. "Not since he was hired. Don't you remember? Two questions about Quidditch and then dozens being shouted at him about his post-Voldemort work and why he'd left the Aurors. One reporter – who turned out to be from that rag _Love Cauldron_ – even suggested he'd been caught taking advantage of a Muggle girl he was supposed to be protecting; since then he's stayed away from the press."

Ginny frowned. "Then why would Dam force him now?" Indeed, the captain seemed to be having a good time looking at the raised wands, as if carefully considering which to recognize first.

"Ron shrugged. "It's part of the job, to talk to the press; Harry knows that. The longer he avoids it the harder it will be. Better to get it over with."

"But how will they . . ." Ginny began. She wanted to know what precautions the team had put into place to make sure the questioning was proper this time. But Dam had apparently made his selection, and Ginny stopped talking to hear the question posed by a serious looking man from Quidditch Today.

"Mr. Potter, given the earlier discussion about the new formations your Chasers used, did you feel extra pressure to find the Snitch quickly?"

Ginny saw Harry's shoulders relax. He shook his head. "I trust our Chasers; they are some of the best I've ever played with." He inclined his head over to the spot where the Tutshill team waited. "Although my former teammate Katie Bell is pretty fantastic," he allowed. He looked over the audience and grinned. "And I think I see another Gryffindor Chaser, Angelina Johnson, over there. She could make you dizzy watching her, she was so fast on her broom." He turned back to the questioner. "I always feel pressure to the find the Snitch quickly; that's my job as Seeker. Not because of anything the Chasers are doing."

Ginny felt oddly put out at Harry's omission of her when he recognized his former teammates. _I was a Chaser too_, she felt like reminding him. True, between Umbridge's ban and his detentions, they had played very few games together, but still, his slight irked her. "Nice of him to remember I played with him too," she muttered to Ron.

He looked at her and rolled his eyes. "So did I," he said. "What's the big deal?"

Ginny flushed. Truth was, she hadn't even considered Ron. "Nothing. It's not," she said quickly. "I'm just used to you lot forgetting I know anything about Quidditch."

Ron rolled his eyes again. "It's not like you're twelve anymore," he said. "Get over it."

Ginny shut her mouth. There was no use trying to explain it to her brother anyway; Harry was talking again. Ginny had missed the question, but it apparently was another appropriate one; he had a small smile on his faced while he answered.

"The crowd today for us was small but mighty," he said. "It always feels great to win for our fans, especially when they've traveled far to see us. I guess maybe that's the pressure I feel, to perform well when I know that people I care . . . I mean, who care about the team, are watching." Harry had been looking at the reporter, but then he looked over at her and Ron for a brief second, smiling, and Ginny felt even more like a bitch for her earlier thoughts.

"You always perform well, Harry, that's what I've heard. You can use your wooden shaft to perform well for me anytime!" The teasing voice came from the right off Ginny, and even as a couple of people around her chuckled, Ginny saw Harry's expression shut down. He turned away. "I'm done," Ginny heard him say.

"Oh, come on, Potter, just one more? If you don't want to talk about your performance, then how about telling us what spells you use on the other teams you play - you must know quite a bit of dark magic, don't you?" The same voice had grown more taunting, and this time Ginny saw the speaker, a thin woman with mousy curls who looked vaguely familiar. She didn't stop to think.

_Myotis Mucocus._ Ginny subtly pointed her wand at the witch and thought the spell in her mind. A flurry of bats suddenly began pouring out of the woman's nose and pandemonium erupted. Reporters backed away from the woman, who was jumping around and screaming. A few started shooting spells at the bats themselves, although Ginny knew they would eventually dissipate on their own. Most of the Quidditch players were running towards their locker rooms, some with their hands over their faces. Even Dam had pushed Harry aside in his haste to get away. Not surprisingly, the security detail was the last to react, looking around in surprise and trying to figure out if there was anyone to hex.

Ginny was trying to bite back her laugh when she saw Harry still standing in front of the crowd, watching with an unreadable expression as the witch turned and ran screeching out of the tent. His gaze landed on Ginny. She stared back at him; of course he knew who'd done the spell. His lips tightened and for a second Ginny wondered if he was angry. But then he gave her a tiny nod and then turned and slipped out of the opening in the tent though which his teammates had run.

She elbowed Ron. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are," she said.

To Ginny's surprise, Harry caught up with her and Ron and Hermione before they'd even reached the Apparition point outside the stadium. His disembodied voice asking to join them made Ginny jump. Ron was unperturbed. "Sure thing, mate," he said into the air, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Actually, Ginny supposed it did, Harry being under his invisibility cloak. She tried to figure out where he was.

"Does anyone else know it was me who did the spell?" she asked.

"Don't turn your head," Ron hissed besides her. "People watching will know someone's there."

Ginny flushed; she should know better. She faced front again. "The witch asking the question looked familiar," she said quietly. "Do any of you know her?"

"I think I've seen her outside the building before." Harry's voice was to the other side of where Ginny had thought. "But I don't know what she was doing here. Only reporters with proper credentials are supposed to be allowed in."

"Not to mention all the rest of the fans," pointed out Ginny. "Is there a ward to keep only credentialed reporters from asking questions?"

Harry swore. "I thought there was," he said. "But maybe Tutshill isn't as careful."

"They don't have to be," pointed out Hermione. "You should have waited to answer questions until you were at a home game."

Ginny heard Harry sigh. She was getting more used to not being able to see him, and could imagine the look currently on his face, aggravated and tired. "Dam thought it would be better to start in a less . . . raucous environment," he said. "He thought maybe there'd be less attention at an away game." Another sigh. "He apologized to me in the locker room. As soon as I assured him that no, the bats weren't going to follow him in there, and no, I had no idea who'd done the spell."

Ginny was glad to hear an element of amusement return to Harry's voice, and her opinion of Dam grew as well. "I'm surprised you didn't throw me under the Knight Bus and tell him it was me," she teased.

Harry snorted. "I almost did, if only to make sure he maintained a healthy respect for your talents," he said. "But I figured it's better to keep that information quiet, until we really need it." There was silence for a moment, and Ginny looked around to see that her brother and Hermione had already disappeared. She took another step. "Harry?"

"I'm still here," he said. His voice had gone serious again. "Ginny," he began. He sighed again. "I really do appreciate what you did. Really." He was quiet again.

Ginny sighed too. "But . . .?" she asked.

"But witches like that, they're everywhere, just looking for a way to get under my skin, or to try get people to think they know more about me than they do." He was quiet again. "There's probably going to be more talk now; saying I'm able to hex people from across rooms, or that I have a secret bodyguard that no one else knows about. You know, stuff that just builds on the 'Harry Potter quit the Aurors because he's crazy' story."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," said Ginny. "I didn't think." She felt like an idiot. Of course Harry was able to take care of himself, even in the face of people like that witch. He'd been about to end his interview and walk away without giving her any satisfaction that she'd been able to rile him up. And then Ginny had stepped in.

"It's okay, really." Without being able to see his face, Ginny wasn't sure if Harry was telling the truth. He must have realized that, because a second later, there was a soft touch on her arm. "Your reflexes and silent magic and aim were spectacular," he said. "And damn, that witch certainly had it coming." He squeezed. "I'm sure nothing will come of it anyway; no one knows who shot the spell."

"That's the other reason you didn't tell Dam, isn't it?" Ginny was realizing that even playing professional Quidditch couldn't be simple for Harry.

"It is, yeah," he said. "Better to keep it quiet until it all dies down."

"I really am sorry, Harry," said Ginny. "I'll be more careful next time."

"I know you will." His voice was reassuring and honest. Then he snorted. "It really was funny though."

Ginny laughed too. "I have to admit, it felt good," she said. She looked around. They'd walked to one of the more remote Apparition points outside the stadium. "Do you think Ron and Hermione are back at your flat or hers?"

Harry groaned. "If they're at mine, you're going to have to put up with me for a while. For a smart witch, Hermione forgets the silencing charms way too often."

"And Ron . . .?"

"Don't get me started on Ron," laughed Harry. "Really, you don't want to know."

Ginny nodded. "I'll meet you there," she said, and prepared to Apparate.

Harry's hand was on her arm again. "If you want, I'll take you side-along to the back," he offered. "You only have another week before you'll be cleared to use it yourself."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks, Harry. I'd rather not have to trip over any more fan-witches today."

"Heh, me either," said Harry. "Let's go."


	7. News and Blues

A/N: So, I have a lot to say about this chapter. First off, if you're keeping track, the next thing I posted should have been Chapter 10 of Servant of Death. It's in the works. But to be honest, I have that story completely mapped out and I know where it's going, and damn, Harry and Ginny are kind of in a bad place there, so I have to be in the right mind frame to write it. This story, on the other hand, is still kind of a wild card. I realized a couple of chapters ago that this is the first time I've ever written a story in which Harry and Ginny were not either together, really good friends and about to get together, or had been together and were headed that way again. This is totally new and I'm curious to see where they end up (okay, I know where they ultimately end up, but I'm not exactly sure how they're getting there).

Also, I have a child graduating from high school very soon, and all the annoying pomp and circumstance that goes with that, plus I'm starting a new job at almost the exact same time. So I will either be writing a lot because I need the distraction, or else not much because I'm too busy being a proper adult. Let's hope for the former, but without too much stress, okay?

Oh, and I have to apologize. I did not intend to end this chapter where I did, after more than 8,000 words and almost no direct interaction between Harry and Ginny. But I have an enabler, and they convinced me it would be fun to end it where I did. Blame the Slytherin, what can I say?

Also, thank you for the help with Quidditch specifics: you all know who you are.

HPHPHPHPHP

_Harry Potter: Arrow or Auror? By Harlow Hayes, Daily Prophet independent contributor _

_The mystery of Harry Potter deepened further Friday night after the Arsenal Arrows' win – a win now being questioned – over the Tutshill Tornados. Potter performed during the match at a level well beyond what one might expect for a player so new to the professional leagues, executing a final, spectacular dive from over five-hundred feet in the air to catch the Snitch just inches from the ground. Until that moment, the outcome of the game was anyone's guess, with the Tutshill and Arsenal Chasers trading goals back and forth as if determined to give their audience – one of the largest seen in a non-playoff match – its Galleon's worth._

_The abruptness of Potter's success in yesterday's match is second only to his abruptness last Spring, when he left his position as a rising start in the newly restructured Auror Corps almost overnight, amidst rumors of sexual misconduct and the rapid deterioration of his mental health. But what is actually true? Could there actually have been an even more nefarious reason, one tied his long years of experience fighting – or so he says – Dark Magic? _

"_I can't talk about the details of Potter's departure or what he was doing for the Aurors before he left. I can only say that it was top secret and vitally important." Head Auror Gawain Robards, to whom Harry Potter had been directly reporting, remains circumspect about what the young 'Chosen One' may or may not have been doing during the year after Voldemort's defeat. "Suffice it to say that without Harry or . . . others, our task to pull up evil by the roots is going to be much more difficult."_

_But is Harry Potter actually the right person to fight Dark Magic? Could he in fact be one of the perpetrators, and his antics on behalf of the Light all these years just a ruse? His surprising prowess on a broom is only one clue as to Potter's true nature. The display of magical power this reporter witnessed after the Tutshill match led herself and most of those assembled to conclude that, in fact, Harry Potter may not be the savior everyone thinks he is. And he may not be working alone._

_Only two questions into his first true press conference since joining the Arrows, Potter's unpredictability was on display in full form. The Dark and never-before-seen curse that sent this reporter to St. Mungo's came out of nowhere, unseen and unheard. Did he perform it himself, harnessing power over wandless magic learned directly from You-Know-Who? Or was he aided by Auror trainee and longtime family friend Ginny Weasley, as suggested by an anonymous bystander, as she tried to escape the colony of murderous bats that the spell conjured? _

_We may not have all the answers now, but be assured, this reporter will not rest until she has uncovered every nefarious secret harbored by Harry Potter and those closest to him._

Ginny's stomach dropped when she saw her own name, shimmering on the page of the Daily Prophet as if written in luminescent ink. Next to it, her photo – the one that adorned her Auror trainee badge – looked boldly up at her. She suddenly hated the look on her face; at the time, she had been trying to convey the tough confidence befitting an Auror. Now, she just thought she looked both pompous and guilty.

Harry had been right; her impetuous cursing of the mousy-haired witch had caused much more trouble than its moment of satisfaction had given. Of course, she was a reporter, and of course, she would try to parley Ginny's moment of frustration into as many newspaper sales as she could. Ginny wondered who this Harlow Hayes was. Her article had run above Pansy Parkinson's inept reporting of the actual match, but at least it was still in the games and sports section of the paper and not closer to the front. She clearly wasn't a Quidditch reporter; Harry's dive had been from, at most, three-hundred feet in the air, and quite frankly, most matches ended with a similarly sudden race to the Snitch. Honestly, the very nature of the question the woman had asked should have alerted Ginny to keep her temper. It was too late now though.

Ginny frowned again at the article. An anonymous bystander had apparently revealed her identity; Ginny would bet anything that it had been Parvati. She and Angelina had both been at the DA meeting where Harry had asked Ginny to demonstrate the Bat-Bogey Hex – on a dummy provided by the Room of Requirement. But Angelina would undoubtedly know better than to reveal Ginny as the perpetrator. And now that she thought of it, Ginny wasn't even sure that Angelina and George had bothered to come to the press conference after the game. If she was feeling charitable, she could admit that it may have been an accident. The last Ginny remembered seeing her, Parvati was running after Dam, wand out, as he escaped the bats. She would have known how innocuous they were, and she certainly would have wanted to _share_ that knowledge with the Arrows captain. Ginny could find out more on Monday at work.

But until then, the most important thing was to find Harry and apologize – again – for her hasty actions. He'd brought her to their building's back entrance before pulling off his invisibility cloak, and then declined her offer to come to her flat for a drink, saying that it was probably best if the two of them weren't seen together for a while. Ginny had been about to protest that her flat was hardly a place the two of them might be seen when an owl arrived, carrying a golden Arrow in its talons. Harry had taken it, and with a quick, "sorry," disappeared in a swirl of Arsenal red.

Still holding the paper, Ginny knocked firmly on Ron and Harry's door. Then she knocked again. It was nearly 9 am; certainly Harry would be awake.

But it was Ron who answered the door, looking from her to his watch with bleary annoyance.

"It's not that early, Ron," she said impatiently. She looked past him into the flat. If she'd woken him up, he wouldn't have seen the article yet, and she could talk to Harry about it without interference.

"He's not here," Ron said. He gave a big yawn. "That Hayes witch sent him 'pre-release' draft of her article in the middle of the night. He went straight to the Arrows' office for damage control. Allegations of using magic – especially Dark magic – to cheat are serious."

Ginny's guilt racheted up another notch. "But he didn't cheat, not even a little bit," she said. "He's really that good. All they have to do is talk to anyone who played with him at Hogwarts. And the Bat-Bogey Hex isn't evil, just annoying. That reporter practically made it sound like an Unforgiveable."

Ron sighed and flopped on the sofa. "I know that, and you know that, and anyone who knows Harry knows that," he said. "But the thousands of Prophet readers who've been reading its lies for years are happy to believe the worst; it's much more interesting."

"As if single-handedly killing Voldemort and saving all their arses isn't interesting enough," said Ginny hotly.

Ron shrugged. "Most of them didn't experience it personally, and only read what the Prophet wrote. They were properly scared about Voldemort, but Harry's role in his defeat was never quite as . . . public, you know? And that's all old news. Now they'd much rather think Harry used Dark Magic to enslave a helpless witch in his sex games or something. Harlow Hayes writes for Love Cauldron, usually, and that's a rag. If she's gotten the Daily Prophet to publish her stuff, that means a lot more people are going to believe her."

"And it's my fault," said Ginny flatly. She leaned back against the sofa. "Harry must hate me."

Ron gave her an odd look. "I don't think he does," he said. "You had no idea what he's been going through these past years. You didn't know better."

That rubbed Ginny almost as wrongly as her guilt at casting the hex in the first place. "And how would I?" she asked. You lot never included me in anything important."

"When we were kids, maybe," said Ron. "But that was your own choice, remember?"

Ginny stared at him. "Not really, no," she said. "I just remember you and Harry off in corners at the Burrow whispering and ignoring me."

"It wasn't on purpose. You didn't want to . . . and anyway, you were always trying to hex us! Remember the watering can?"

Ginny giggled. "Oh yeah, that was funny. But I only did it because you spent all Christmas break not telling me anything about Sirius Black. And if I remember, you and Harry got me back by growing ivy in my bed." That had been a particularly annoying holiday. Harry and Ron had alternated between ignoring her and teasing her mercilessly, often ganging up with the twins to do it. Her mum had seemed oddly pleased at their behavior, telling her that "boys will be boys" whenever Ginny complained. Getting back to school had actually been a relief that year.

"And that's all old news, Ginny. We included you in the DA, and the Department of Mysteries, and when the Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts, didn't we?"

"And then left me again to go traipsing all over England and then tried to lock me in the Room of Requirement instead of fighting at the final battle!" This was a tired argument, and both Ginny and Ron knew it. He wisely ignored her.

"We've talked about all this, Ginny," said Ron instead. "What matters is now. Why do you think I told you to watch out for people gossiping about Harry?"

"And I have," she said, with a touch of petulance. "I even shut down Robards, remember?"

"I remember," said Ron. "But you have to be on your guard all the time. Witches like Harlow Hayes are everywhere, just waiting to grab any tidbit of information they can and exploiting it."

"I'll be more aware from now on," Ginny promised. "Will you let me know when Harry gets back? I'd like to apologize again."

"I will," agreed Ron. "But I don't know when that will be. I heard Harry was going to have to talk to the Department of Magical Games and Sports and everything. Until then, I'd lay low. Stick around your flat. There are a bunch of reporters outside, wanting a word with you."

Ginny groaned. "Really? I was going to go for a run."

Ron shook his head. "I wouldn't, not today. Or tomorrow. Hopefully by Monday it will have all died down." He gave her a more sympathetic look. "And I'll send Harry over when he gets home so you can grovel at his feet and he can tell you it's all fine. 'Kay?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Ron."

HPHPHPHP

No one contacted Ginny for the rest of that Saturday. She tried jogging in place and doing sit ups in her flat, but eventually got so antsy that she decided to brave the outside world. But even from the front lobby of her building, it was obvious that more than the usual number of fan-witches had set up camp. There was a rush of noise as soon as the reporters in front saw her, peering through the glass. As much as Ginny wanted to confront them, and she had to admit that the desire to yell, hex, or both was strong, she managed to hold back this time.

Her decision was reinforced when she got back up to her flat to find a Ministry owl waiting for her. The summons for Monday morning was short and to the point: Ginny was expected to appear at the Office of the Department of Magical Games and Sports to answer questions about an "incident" Friday night at the Arsenal-Tutshill Quidditch match. Members of the Aurors would be present as well. Ginny sighed. She'd been expecting to be questioned about her actions from the minute she saw her name in the Daily Prophet, although the addition of what sounded like her boss caught her a little off guard. She didn't think she'd broken any Auror rules with her actions, but now she wasn't so sure. Maybe one of the long-winded morning lectures had been about when it was and wasn't okay to hex annoying, bitchy reporters.

She'd have to ask Harry what to expect when she saw him on Sunday.

But Harry never stopped by at all that weekend, leaving Ginny to wonder if Ron had been wrong and Harry actually _was_ angry with her. The only bright note was the message she got from the building manager, approving her to enter and exit through the private back alleyway, and so Sunday afternoon she finally was able to slip away for a run and groceries. It wasn't time for laundry again, but Ginny even took a small basket of dirty clothes down to the laundry room on the off-chance Harry would be there. He wasn't, and instead Ginny had to endure a thirty-minute story about the proper way to grow and care for magical flower boxes from the dotty old woman who lived in one of the rent-controlled flats on the second floor.

She escaped as quickly and politely as she could, and then spent half the night pacing around her flat, wondering what was going to happen in the morning. During her lucid moments, she didn't think they'd actually kick her out of the Aurors, but around 2 am she had a bad patch of worry that almost sent her flying down the hall to seek reassurance. Only the fact that Harry hadn't sought her out himself, not to mention the hell Ron would give her for waking him up, kept her at home. She finally managed to capture a couple of hours of sleep near morning, but was nowhere near top form the next day as she flashed her badge at the Ministry security guards and walked to the lifts.

"Wait up . . . wait . . . hold the door!" Ron's voice was unmistakable as it panted closer from the direction of the entrance Floos. _Damn, she was later than she thought._

Ron must have thought so too because he took in the circles under her eyes and messy ponytail and raised his eyebrows at her. "Rough night?" he asked.

"You'd know," she said testily. Ron looked confused. "Know what?" The lift stopped at floor seven and Ginny got out. "Where are you going?" he asked. "We've got five more levels." He looked out of the lift at the large posters of the Irish and British national Quidditch teams and comprehension dawned on his face. "Ohhh, is this about what happened . . . ohhh." To Ginny's relief, Ron stopped talking

She nodded tersely. "I'll be up to training as soon as I can," she said. Unspoken was her worry from the night before: _I hope_.

Ron nodded. "I'll let you know what you miss." The lift closed and Ron gave her a last, worried look through the grates before it rose away.

Ginny was determined not to show any fear, and marched resolutely down the hallway to the closed door marked with a shiny brass nameplate. Willa Corking had taken over as the head of Magical Games and Sports after Ludo Bagman resigned in disgrace after one too many gambling debacles. She didn't know much about her, she wasn't nearly as flashy as his predecessor, and after playing for her house team at Hogwarts (Chaser for Ravenclaw), had started working in the Rules office for the department immediately after graduating, rising steadily over the past twenty years. Her father called Willa a fair woman, though, and that was all Ginny needed to know. She knocked firmly on the door and it opened inward almost immediately.

"Ahh, Ginny, good, right on time. Please, have a seat." The voice that spoke was measured and calm, and seemed like it would be much more at home in a meeting room than at a Quidditch match. Corking was slim and wiry; she still had a Chaser's build, Ginny noted. She sat down.

"Don't worry, this is a mere formality." Although she had expected him to be here, Robards' voice still gave Ginny a small jolt of surprise. She gulped and nodded at her boss and the realized that sitting next to him was the Minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ginny's forced her breath to slow. Despite her great familiarity with Kingsley, he was still the Minister, and his appearance at a meeting over something as silly as a small hex was foreboding. Ginny sat ups straighter and wished she'd taken the time to fix her hair that morning.

"Hello, Ginevra," said Kingsley calmly.

Ginny relaxed. Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken to calling her 'Ginevra' the first time he'd met her – saying that it was much too formal of a name for a spitfire like Ginny. It had become rather a joke between them, as was the fact that the Minister of Magic was the only person Ginny allowed to use her full name without risk of being hexed – aside from her parents when they were angry, of course.

She risked a smile and saw Kingsley's eyes twinkle. "Hello, Minister," she said formally. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yes, well, as former head of the Aurors, I thought it was important," said Robards. "Harry's already explained most of what happened, this shouldn't take long." The man sat forward. "Although as recent . . . events have proven, there is great opportunity and benefit to be gained through the collaboration of our two departments. He gestured to himself and then to Corking.

Kingsley cleared his throat but didn't say anything.

"The Aurors and the department of magical sports?" asked Ginny. She was confused. "I thought I was here because I hexed that bitch of a reporter."

This time, she was certain she heard Kingsley chuckle. Corking nodded seriously. "Well, officially, yes, that is the reason for this meeting. But Harry has already explained to us that he and that particular . . . reporter have had interferences in the past, and that you have a bit of a temper and tend to act without thinking when a member of your family is being threatened." She waved her hand away. There is no evidence at all that Harry or anyone else used any illegal spell or other material to gain advantage during the match, and quite frankly, our departments aren't particularly concerned at the attack on, as you called her, 'that bitch of a reporter' with what really amounts to little more than a child's hex." She smiled at Ginny, obviously expecting she would be pleased at the outcome.

Ginny forced herself to smile. "So Harry told you all this, when, yesterday? Last night?"

"Friday evening," Corking said. "We convened a meeting immediately after the incident and were able to determine, with the help of the Tutshill security forces as well, that nothing untoward had occurred. One of the Tutshill players who used to play with Harry – Katie Bell, I believe – was particularly helpful.

Ginny nodded stiffly, but inside she was seething. Harry had apparently saved her arse with her boss and the entire Ministry by making her sound like a tantrum-ing child who couldn't control her wand. What's more, he'd known since Friday night that she was off the hook and yet hadn't bothered to tell her anything, leaving her to wonder and worry for two more days. She stifled a yawn. And now she had to go sit through an entire day of Auror training on almost no sleep. She shifted in her seat.

"Is that all? I should really get back to training."

Robards shook his head. "Actually, as I mentioned earlier, regardless of what we tell the public, and the press, there is no denying that you and Mr. Potter have a unique relationship." He raised his hands and Ginny opened her mouth to protest. "Now, I understand you told me several weeks ago that you weren't interested in talking to Harry, but I daresay, he may see things differently now. At least, he didn't storm out of the meeting we had Friday where your name and role in the press conference were being discussed."

"I don't think . . ." began Ginny.

"Don't worry, you don't have to think of anything right now, or make any decisions." Robards looked up as Kingsley cleared his throat again. "Indeed, the Minister of Magic and I have rather . . . divergent views on the subject."

Ginny glanced up. Kingsley's face was impassive. "It's a waste of time, Gawain," he said. "As I told you, I know that Ginny would never ask Harry to do something he didn't want to." His eyes flickered, and Ginny gave him the barest nod of understanding. _Don't agree to anything._

"Yes, yes, you've made your opinion perfectly clear," said Robards. "But if Harry himself changed his mind, well then, I think we could all agree there would be no harm done, correct?"

"Harry won't change his mind," said Ginny flatly. She still didn't know exactly what Harry had refused to do, but that didn't really matter.

Robards didn't seem upset. "Well, we'll see about that. You're going to be starting a very interesting segment of training later in the week, one that was of particular interest to Harry. I suspect that between you and your brother, Harry will be quite interested to hear what it is you're learning." He stood up. "Feel free to share with him; ordinary rules of secrecy don't apply in this case.

Ginny sensed Kingsley wanted to say something else, but he merely closed his eyes for a moment. She stood up. "I'd really better get back to class." She walked to the door. If Robards or anyone else thought she was going to spend any time talking to Harry about what she was doing for the Aurors, they were crazy. After hearing what he'd said about her and her behavior, she didn't even want to be in the same room with him if she could help it. _Temper indeed. I'll show him how I act without thinking when I hex his arse all the way to Ireland._

At the door, she turned back. Despite everything, these people were her superiors, and since she wasn't getting sacked, at least she could acknowledge that. "Thank you for the meeting. I'll try to . . . control my temper in the future." Robards and Corking nodded, but Kingsley chuckled. "Not on my account I hope, Miss Weasley."

Ginny gave the Minister of Magic a small smile before leaving. He'd barely spoken at all, but somehow, Ginny didn't think his presence was an accident. She sighed, trying to will herself awake and thinking to herself exactly what she was going to say to Harry the next time she saw him.

Back upstairs, Ginny hushed Ron when he tried to ask her what had happened. "Later," she muttered under her breath. "No one else needs to know." Ron, to his credit, merely nodded and tapped the parchment in front of her, copying the ten minutes of notes he'd already taken to her. The lecture was on the various colors spells and curses might take, and what each meant, going into much greater detail than had been taught at Hogwarts. Still, the topic was familiar enough that Ginny could listen with half her brain and think with the other. One thing was certain: she needed to talk to Harry, but whether to warn him, question him, or throttle him, Ginny wasn't sure.

Ginny kept expecting one of the other trainees to mention the article or ask her about what had happened, but they were all oddly silent on the matter. She mentioned it to Ron on their way home. He chuckled. "If you could seen the look you've had on your face all day, you wouldn't wonder," he said. "I think you've gotten everyone all properly scared that they might be the next one hexed.

Ginny frowned at that. "I would never . . ." she began hotly. Ron raised his hands in supplication.

"I know, I know," he said. "And I think that at least the other DA members know too. Lee thinks its properly hysterical, actually. And Angelina just wishes she'd seen it; she and George left before the press conference." His voice dropped. "I think they might be shagging."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course they're shagging," she said. "And Fred and Katie too."

Ron looked at her in surprise. "Fred and Katie? Really? How do you know?"

"How do you don't know?" Ginny retorted. She sighed. "I think the only one not shagging these days is me."

"And I'll thank you for not telling me when it happens," said Ron promptly. He shrugged. "Harry isn't either. The poster of him in our flat hasn't changed."

Ginny didn't know that Harry would have wanted Ron revealing that to anyone, but she didn't bother saying so. "He really should insist on taking that down. What is a witch going to think when she sees it and knows what it means?"

Ron laughed. "I think the point is to not have her stick around long enough to find out."

"So one of the cows on the front walk, you mean." They'd arrived in the back alleyway. "I'm glad I don't have to see them every day anymore."

"There's still quite a bit of press out there too," said Ron. "I'm not sure they'll leave until they catch sight of you at least."

"They'll wait quite a while, then," she said.

HPHPHPHPHP

For the next few days, Ginny kept to her word, only taking the back entrance in and out of her flat, and confining most of her comings and goings to work. By Thursday morning, she was more than a little cranky about her self-imposed isolation. She'd been avoiding the shops closest to her flat, including the bakery with her favorite pastries and the substitutes she picked up near the Ministry were dry and tasteless. She'd run out of tea at home too, a fact she didn't realize until she was already running late, and that meant drinking the boring bagged stuff at work. So it was with an air of one quite aggrieved that she arrived in the training room that morning, clutching her paper cup of insipid tea and thankful for the small mercy that tomorrow was a bank holiday for both wizards and Muggles alike, and they all had the day off.

A few of the other trainees were huddled around a desk, muttering. Angelina looked up when Ginny walked in and pointed to something in front of her. "Have you seen this yet?" she asked.

Ginny walked over. It was that morning's Daily Prophet, which Ginny had not had time yet to read, occupied as she'd been tearing her kitchen apart looking for tea. The article was below the fold, but still on the front page, and Ginny winced to see her image again in black and white. This time, it was a shot of her walking towards the Ministry's employee entrance. She was clutching a bag and looking tense. _The mysterious Ginny Weasley – friend or foe? _said the headline.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, I'm in the Aurors," huffed Ginny. "I thought the Prophet was trying to become more respectable."

"For them, this is respectable," said Angelina. "Want to read it? It's not long." She held out the paper.

Ginny sighed. "Can you read it to me? Might as well let everyone know at once."

Angelina gave her a bracing smile and picked up the paper. "It's not _terrible_, she said.

_Auror trainee Ginny Weasley, still under a cloud of suspicion regarding her role in the cursing of a reporter at the Arrows-Tutshill match, has been seemingly hiding out in recent days. While records from the Ministry confirm that Miss Weasley has been going to work regularly, several of her friends confirm they haven't seen her anywhere else, an unusual occurrence for the normally social and gregarious witch._

"They make me sound like all I do is party," grumbled Ginny.

"That's the Prophet for you," said Lee. "Don't believe a word of it."

Angelina continued.

"_It's so odd, we're used to sharing a joke or laugh with Ginny outside her apartment building, but we haven't seen her at all lately" said Katerina Bellows a local influencer in the social scene. "I wonder if it has anything to do with that mess at Quidditch, you know, Ginny sticking her wand where it didn't belong." Miss Bellows would be one to know; she was most recently paired with Harry Potter, although she demurred when asked about the current status of their relationship. _

Ginny groaned. "Relationship? There's no relationship there!"

"We know, Ginny," said Ron. He'd apparently just arrived. "Those fan-witches are just sorry you aren't using the front entrance anymore and they have one fewer chance to catch a glimpse inside."

_Miss Weasley's appearances at home aside, the bigger question of course, is what exactly she meant to do in hexing that reporter. Because we have it on good authority that in fact, she was the perpetrator of the so-called Bat-Bogey Hex, a nasty, but not permanently damaging, curse that has apparently been taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Indeed, Harry Potter himself has been identified as having taught the hex to a group of students, and he was formally questioned about its use at the press conference. Although he declined to comment for this article, a trusted source confirmed that Mr. Potter told Ministry heads, including Willa Corking and Gawain Robards, that Miss Weasley's temper had gotten the best of her, but that he was sure she'd learned her lesson. But what lesson, exactly? Has Miss Weasley turned over a new leaf and is now dedicating herself anew to the Aurors? Or is she merely going to be more careful not to get caught, next time?_

"What the fuck?" said Ginny, louder than intended. "Who wrote this rubbish?"

Angelina looked at the top of the article. "It just says 'Prophet staff,' she said. "Which is what they do when they know they're writing something inflammatory.

"It's not that bad, Ginny," said Parvati. She looked nervous, and Ginny's suspicion that she was the one who'd originally revealed Ginny as the caster of the hex was confirmed. "It looks like Harry fixed everything, at least at work. Who cares what the crazy people who believe the Prophet think?"

Ginny cared that the entire wizarding world apparently now thought she was a hot-headed child who needed to be saved from her own bumbling by Harry Potter, but she kept that thought to herself. At the very least, she'd learned that the more she protested, the more no one was likely to believe her.

"You're probably right, Parvati," she choked out, relieved to see their instructor enter the room. For the first time, Ginny was actually looking forward to the distraction of a dry lecture on some obscure theory of Dark Magic. Of course, that didn't happen.

"Now that you all have a thorough foundation in the principles of the Aurors, the focus of our morning lectures is going to shift a bit." Their lecturer, a tall, thin wizard, was one they'd had several times in the past, and he tended to be more interesting than most. "Organic roots of evil," he announced. "And how to identify them." He peered carefully at each member of the class.

"We've talked about the external factors that cause wizards to go dark, but what about those who develop a penchant for evil much earlier in their lives? Is it possible that certain factors in one's upbringing could even cause a child to be born with the propensity for the darkness?"

Everyone knew he was talking about Voldemort, although Ginny suspected that few knew as much about his early years as she and Ron did. Although, to be fair, Ron knew more; Harry had shared what he'd learned from Dumbledore directly with him and Hermione. Ginny had had to eavesdrop and cajole to get the knowledge she had about the orphanage where Voldemort had grown up, and what was known about his parentage. Still, she was surprised when the lecturer turned to her.

"Ginny, you had personal interactions with the young Voldemort, so to speak. Would you say that you were able to sense his darkness when he was just sixteen?"

"He tried to kill me, what do you think?" The words came out more sharply than was probably wise, but still, what did anyone think, springing a question like that? Ginny took a deep breath. She'd known this would come up eventually; there was no use trying to hide it. "I mean, yes, I could feel how evil he was, but not at first." Around her, Ginny was aware that it had gotten very quiet. "At first he was just, friendly and charming, you know? He always seemed to know exactly what to say to make me feel better."

"What were you upset about?" The question was mild, and Ginny wondered exactly how much the lecturer knew. Dumbledore had promised her parents that he'd keep most of the details private, and he had, but there had been a few stories in the press and Ginny harbored no illusions that there hadn't been gossip or spilled secrets along the way.

She sighed, and hoped Ron had the sense to keep his mouth shut. "I was mad," she admitted. "That my brother and his friends were still treating me like a little kid." She carefully ignored her brother, but she could feel his gaze on her. He'd already been teasing her on the train up to school, warning her that she'd have to wrestle a troll or risk being sorted into Slytherin. She hadn't really believed him, but the and Harry had both laughed, and her worry about possibly not being in Gryffindor ratcheted up a notch. And later, Ron had come back from the loo and heard Ginny asking Harry how he'd gotten picked for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ginny knew that her chances of following suit were slim, but she wasn't sure what was worse, Ron's shout of laughter or the way Harry had patted her arm and told her the team was already full, as if she was too stupid to know who played for Gryffindor, when half her family had already been on the team. That very night, relieved to have been sorted into Gryffindor, Ginny had nonetheless pulled out her diary and began writing.

And Tom had written back.

It was an abbreviated story she told the class; in truth, she still had very little memory about what she'd done every time Voldemort had possessed her and she had never wanted anyone to tell her. But she tried to convey his power to everyone the best she could.

"I remember seeing him come out of the diary," she said. "And yes, at that point, I could almost feel how Dark he was. I knew he wasn't my friend, and that he'd been lying when he told me that Ron and Ha . . . his friends were ignoring me on purpose, because I was too young and stupid to keep up with them." Ginny didn't know why she bit back Harry's name; surely everyone knew who she was talking about. She shook her head. "And then, everything went dark again, and when I came to, Ron was there, and Harry, and they had a great phoenix with them. Ron had fought the Basilisk and killed it, and I think he battled with Voldemort's memory too, didn't you?" Ginny turned and looked at Ron. "You destroyed him? Before Harry broke through the collapsed tunnel and brought the phoenix to get us out of there?"

Ron looked uncomfortable, as he did on the rare occasions that the Chamber came up in conversation. "Something like that," he mumbled. "It was a long time ago."

The lecturer found his voice. "Well, you are certainly lucky you have such a brave brother," he said. "And that he had a friend willing to venture into the Chamber of Secrets with him. I believe that Gilderoy Lockhart is still in St. Mungo's isn't he? Hit on the head by falling rocks? You were all very lucky." He turned to the class. "This is what we'll be discussing next, how to identify evil as early as possible, before the . . . perpetrator becomes as powerful as Voldemort. We'll be looking at spells, objects, magical signatures, and other means to find darkness in its nascent form and extinguish it as quickly as possible.

The lecturer's words gave Ginny an odd feeling. Something Harry had said, about why he'd quit, the thought niggled at the back of her mind but she couldn't quite grasp it. Next to her, she saw that Ron's lips had gone tight. _He knew. _

No one else seemed particularly disturbed though, and when class ended a few minutes later, Ron seemed to have shaken off his disquiet, and began joking with Lee and Copernicus and Ernie about some joke he'd gotten from Fred and George. He didn't say anything to Ginny. She knew it would do no good to question him, especially in front of everyone else, and so she allowed herself to be swept up by Parvati, who was nearly bouncing with excitement.

"You need to come out with us tonight, Ginny. You too, Angelina. The pub is supposed to be fantastic."

Angelina made a face. "Wand-or-lust?" she asked. "Isn't that supposed to be another one of those places to get drunk and shag in the corners?"

Parvati giggled. "Much more upscale than the Troll Hole or those sorts of places. They have high-end drinks and the space was designed by WHO. And yes, if you do happen to be in the mood, there are private nooks and corners for certain . . . activities, but that's not what it's all about. Her voice got rather casual. "All the Arrows will be there, I think it will be fun."

Ginny laughed. "You mean Dam will be there," she said.

Parvati shrugged. "Actually, I find Adam Ramsey quite interesting." She looked at Ginny. "Dam seemed to only want to talk about you. When he wasn't screaming about whether he had bat droppings on him."

Ginny sighed. "He just won't give up, will he?"

"So are you two coming?" asked Parvati.

Angelina shook her head. "Count me out, George and I are going somewhere a little more . . . down to earth. But you two have fun."

Ginny sighed. It wasn't like she had any other plans anyway. "Do you think my brother and Hermione will be there?" she asked. At least that way, she'd have someone to talk to, as long as she could keep them out of one of the private corners.

Parvati nodded. "I asked them," she said. She seemed pleased that Ginny wasn't angry at her for her role in the Prophet article. "I think they're all planning to get there around eight. Should I come to you or meet you at the pub?"

"Meet at the pub," said Ginny quickly. She most definitely did not want to get caught up in a big group of Arrows and groupies all arriving together. If there was any way to get her photo back in the paper for a third time that week, that would be it.

HPHPHPHPHP

So it was by herself that Ginny finally slipped into the alley behind her building and concentrated on the destination of the pub. She felt a little silly, thinking 'wand-or-lust' over in her head, but there was nothing for it. She just hoped the place wasn't as bad as Angelina had made it sound.

In fact, the pub itself appeared much more tasteful than its name, with comfy, overstuffed chairs and sofas in muted colors and a lot of fancy wooden tables and shiny hanging lamps creating small patches of light around the space. Ginny relaxed a fraction when she caught sight of Ron and Hermione sitting with Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott in a booth. There was a free seat, and Ginny sat down with a grateful sigh.

"Thank the Muggles for having that bank holiday tomorrow," she said. "I really needed the long weekend."

Hermione gave her a sympathetic look. "A bit too much attention this week?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "A bit," she said. A server appeared and suggested one of the pub's "end of week" specials to start. The drink was bright yellow and steaming slightly; the server promised things would get "darker" as the night went on. Ginny took a tentative sip and felt herself immediately begin to relax. She sunk into the cushions of her seat. "This is really good!" she said.

Ron gave her a warning look. "Just watch out, I hear the drinks here are stronger than they taste."

"I can take care of myself, Ronald," said Ginny. She took a bigger sip and looked around. "I thought . . . the others were coming," she said carefully."

Ron nodded. "It took them a little longer to get going than planned," he said. "One of the fans recognized Parvati and tried to use her to get into the building. Everyone went into hiding. Dam didn't want the entire Harry Potter fan club showing up this time."

Ginny waved the server over for a second drink. "Really? I'd think he'd want the publicity."

Ron shook his head. "Dam's a good guy, Ginny. He knows what Harry's had to put up with this week and wanted to give him a break."

Ginny mood fell a bit at the reminder of exactly why Harry had had anything to put up with. She took a larger pull out of her glass. "Well, I think we're all glad that week is over," she said. She turned to Hannah and Neville, intent on changing the subject to something completely boring, like Herbology. But before she could even open her mouth, there was a commotion near the door, and what seemed to be the entire Arrows' team – starters and reserves – and at least a dozen witches, all arrived at once. Ginny saw Parvati among the crowd, holding tightly to the arm of Adam Ramsey, who looked rather pleased.

"I guess they decided to bring some of their fans along after all," said Ginny dryly. Although many of the faces were unfamiliar, she recognized Katerina and a couple of her cronies from the Harry Potter fan club; all of them were quite dressed up, with plenty of makeup and clothing that Ginny suspected was rather expensive. Not for the first time, she wondered what these witches did for a living; sitting outside an apartment building all day certainly didn't pay anything.

The crowd parted, and Ginny saw Harry, an unfamiliar witch hanging on his arm. He was turned away, so Ginny couldn't tell if the attention was unwanted or not; he wasn't pulling away though, and when someone handed him his own yellow drink, he knocked cups with someone she couldn't see and tilted his head back to drink.

"Ahh, you're on red already, excellent!" Dam's voice was unmistakable even in the din of the pub. He knocked his hip against Ginny's shoulder. "Let's get you all the way to blue, shall we?" He bent down. "Scoot over, introduce me to your friends, Ginny."

Ginny laughed and made room. "Well, this is my brother Ron, and his girlfriend Hermione," she said with a smirk, pointing across the table.

"What? No, I know them, I was asking . . . ohhhh. Taking the mickey already, are you?" Dam grinned at the joke and leaned across Ginny, hand out. "Damacles Clarke," he said, shaking hands first with Neville and then with Hannah. "Longbottom, huh? Rather unusual name. How do you two know Ginny?"

Ginny was impressed how well Neville hid his surprise, but he'd always been quite modest. "Hogwarts," he said finally. "I was in Gryffindor with Ron and Harry."

"Ahhh, right," said Dam. "Never went myself. Learned everything I needed to at home, I did." He threw his arm around Ginny. "I haven't yet had the chance to show you what I know, have I? He nudged her drink closer. "Finish up and maybe I'll get my chance."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't hold your breath," she said. She was feeling quite relaxed and happy, but completely in control.

He waggled his eyebrows. "I never say never, Weasley," he said, drawing out her name. He looked around the pub. "I think even Harry's enjoying himself. He was getting cozy in a booth with one of those fan-witches and I'm not sure I could see exactly where both of his hands were."

Ginny rolled her eyes again. "And when did you tell the press to show up, to get photos of it all?" she asked.

Dam laughed. "That's one of the things I like about this pub, in addition to its great drinks and cozy activity corners," he said. "Strict 'no press' policy. It's warded so camera won't even work inside."

Ginny was impressed despite herself, and she suddenly felt even more cheerful. She raised her glass. "To no press!" she said happily. Dam clinked with hers and then frowned. "You need another, and I need the loo." He stood up. "Meet you back here?"

"Sure," she said. She stood up too and walked to the bar.

Her drink this time was green, and the bartender gave her a knowing look. "Third one already, huh? I guess you're looking to have a good night."

Ginny laughed. "I hope so," she said. "It's been a long week." This drink was spicier, and Ginny vowed to take it more slowly now; she was definitely starting to feel the effects, although her mind was still clear.

As she turned around, drink in hand, Harry was suddenly there. He was also holding a brightly colored, smoking flagon; by its color, Ginny could tell it wasn't his first either. The witch who'd been hanging on his arm – and whom Dam had said was with Harry in a booth – was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's your friend?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't care," he said. "I think Wilder's talking to her now."

"I'm surprised the team brought so many fans with them," remarked Ginny. "Ron said Dam wanted a quieter night out."

Harry barked a laugh. "This _is_ quiet," he said. "Maybe one fan per player, instead of a flock of them. Less chance for a brawl that way."

"So now Wilder has two?" asked Ginny with a laugh.

Harry shrugged again. "He can handle himself. He'll probably enjoy it." He looked seriously at Ginny. "No one's bothered you, right?"

"Who would bother me? I'm sitting with Ron and Hermione and Neville and Hannah."

Harry nodded. "Good," he said. "That's good."

Ginny frowned. "Why's that good? I can handle myself, you know." Irritation flared suddenly, not quite dulled by her buzz. "Not that you think so."

Harry stared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know exactly what I mean. Telling people, like my _boss_ no less, that I'm still to be treated like an impetuous child who can't control her emotions, but don't worry, you've got it sorted and it won't happen again." She shook her head. "I can't believe you'd say that. What's wrong with, 'yeah, Ginny recognized a danger and she reacted. You know, like Aurors are supposed to?" She glared at him and took a big sip of her drink, hoping that he couldn't notice she was swaying slightly.

"Honestly, Ginny, for someone who's as smart as I know you are, and who seems to see through the Ministry better than most, I'd think you'd understand." Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"What's that supposed to mean, now you're calling me dumb?" Ginny knew that was the opposite of what Harry was saying, but the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions just enough that she didn't really care.

Harry's voice took on the overly patient tone Ginny hated. "What it means, is that telling Robards and Corking you let your childhood temper get the best of you, and you were just protecting your brother's best mate, was the best way to get them off your back. No questions asked." Harry grabbed her arm. "You don't need anyone thinking you know any dark magic, Ginny. Especially not after . . ." he trailed off.

She shook off his hand. "After what, the Chamber? I already told everyone about that." Harry didn't look surprised and Ginny huffed. "But I'm sure you know that already, that Ron told you." Harry didn't say anything, and she huffed again. "You could have come to me, you know. You could have asked me what I told everyone or why I hexed that reporter. You didn't have to speak for me." Ginny felt herself getting worked up. She expected Harry to respond, but he just stood there, arms crossed, watching her. She continued her rant. "Or am I going to read about it in the paper tomorrow? Maybe a story about how unstable I am? First, I can't control my temper, and then I tell all kinds of tales about what it felt like to be possessed, not that I even remember." Her voice turned bitter. "Why do you always have to treat me like I'm a dumb kid, Harry? I'm not, you know." He opened his mouth then, but Ginny plowed on. "I know what I'm doing, and I don't care what the Ministry thinks. I'm going to be an Auror, no matter what." Her voice had risen and a few people looked in their direction. She gulped more of her drink, trying to calm down.

"Of course you're going to be an Auror, Ginny. That's not what this is about. But you need to watch out for . . ."

"IT'S TWO OF MY FAVORITE NEIGHBORS!" Depending on how Ginny looked at it, Dam had picked either the best or the worst time to interrupt. She wanted to know what Harry had been about to say, but at the same time, she just didn't want to deal with something so deep right now. She was at a bar, supposed to be having fun after a tough week. What was Harry thinking, accosting her like that, now? He knew what she'd been dealing with, and he could have come by any time this week. But he hadn't. He'd waited until they were both half drunk to talk to her, and that was just stupid.

"Stupid," she said out loud. She looked down at her empty glass. "I need another."

"What's stupid?" asked Dam. "Not me, I hope." He elbowed Harry. "Is she calling me stupid?"

Harry gave his captain a tight smile. "I don't think so."

"People who try to have serious conversations when other people are drunk are stupid," explained Ginny. "When there are things to talk about, they shouldn't wait until you're in a pub. You go to a pub to have fun, and I wanted to have fun. You don't start talking about important things instead. Especially when they could come by your flat." She shook her head. "Stupid."

Dam grabbed her hand. "I think you're ready for the famous Wand-or-lust Magic Blue Potion," he said. He held up his empty glass. "And I'm ready for my second. Mind if I borrow Ginny?"

Ginny had a sudden thought that Harry probably did mind, but he shook his head. "No, go on," he said. "I need the loo anyway." He touched Ginny's arm. "Let me know if . . ." he stopped and shook his head. "You're right, you can take care of yourself," he said. "I'll, umm, be sitting with Ron, okay?" He smiled. "Have fun, I know that's what you want."

Ginny nodded. "I do. I do want to have fun," she said. She leaned against Dam. "So, where's that blue drink you promised?"


	8. Reversing Roles

A/N: The previous chapter had very little Harry and Ginny interaction; I hope this makes up for it.

_The blue drink wasn't as big as the others, and Ginny mentioned it to Dam as he steered her carefully through the crowd. _

"_Small, but mighty," he said. "Kind of like you."_

_This struck Ginny as rather funny, and she giggled. "That's me," she agreed. A comfy looking purple couch loomed in front of her. "Oohh, I like this one," she said happily, collapsing down on it. Immediately, the noise of the pub dulled. _

_Dam sat down next to her. "You picked a good spot," he said. "It just needs a few extra wards, don't you think? I like my privacy when I . . . for talking."_

"_Privacy," echoed Ginny. She leaned into Dam so she could whisper into his ear. "Harry likes his privacy too, did you know that? You must, cause you're his captain."_

_Dam laughed. "I did know that, yes," he said. He looked out into the pub. "I wish he'd go find some 'privacy' of his own with one of these witches, the poor bloke needs a good shag already."_

"_Not here, he doesn't," said Ginny knowingly. "Not with a groupie. Not Harry."_

_Dam looked thoughtful. "I'm beginning to realize that," he said. He shook his head. "Enough about Potter though." He raised his cup. "Cheers!" _

"_Cheers," said Ginny. She clinked glasses and drank deeply. "Mmmm, this one's the best yet."_

_Dam had drained his glass completely. "Oh, I think the best is yet to come," he said. He leaned in closer. "What would you say if I added a couple of extra wards to our corner?"_

_Ginny found herself staring at Dam's lips. They looked soft. She licked her own and saw a gleam on interest in his eyes. "Wards would be good," she said. She watched as Dam picked up his wand and muttered a spell. Immediately, the space around them turned pitch black. _

"_Shit, wrong one," he said. "Recanto." The light came back. He tried again. "Obscurio," he said firmly, waving his wand in an odd pattern. The air at the edge of their sofa blurred, but Ginny could still see through it to the pub beyond. She frowned. "Is that right?"_

_Dam was shaking his wand. "It's that blue drink," he said. "Should come with a warning. Hold on, I'll try again."_

"_It's okay," said Ginny. "We learned these in training." She waved her wand and said a series of spells in succession, until the sight and sound of the pub faded completely away. _

_Dam gave a low whistle. "Well, thank the Aurors for me, will you?" He shuffled closer on the sofa. "So, finally alone," he said. _

"_Finally?" said Ginny with a giggle. "I didn't realize you've been waiting."_

_Dam nodded. "Since the day I met you," he said. He put his hand on the back of her neck and leaned in. _

_Ginny nodded to herself. She wondered if Dam's lips were as soft as they looked. Shuffling closer, she moved her hand to his shoulder and met him halfway._

HPHPHPHPHP

The knocking was subtle, but it sounded like it was right next to Ginny's ear. She groaned softly and rolled over, pulling her pillow with her. Unfortunately, the knocking followed. She cracked open an eye. _Was someone in her flat?_ She sat up quickly and grabbed her wand, wincing at the way her head pounded and her stomach rolled. "Who's there?" she asked hoarsely.

"Ginny, it's me." _Harry._

Ginny looked around. "Where are you?" she whispered into the air. Sunlight was streaming through the window next to her bed and she flicked her wand woozily at the curtains until they swung closed. The darkness was a relief. "Are you here?" she said, a bit more loudly.

"I'm outside your door. Projection spell." His voice was blessedly low. "I wanted to know if you're . . . are you okay?"

"I've been better," Ginny said thickly. She leaned back against her pillows and closed her eyes. It was quiet again, and Ginny wondered if Harry had gone away.

"Can I come in? I mean, if you're alone?"

That got Ginny to sit up again. "Why wouldn't I be alone?" she asked. She pointed her wand at the door and heard the click as it opened. "Come on in. Quietly," she said. She put her hand against her temple and pressed at the throbbing.

A few seconds later she sensed, rather than saw, that Harry was next to her bed. "I'll be fine," she muttered in his direction. "I just need to sleep for about twenty more hours."

Something crinkled nearby. "I brought you a potion; I didn't think you had any."

That got Ginny's attention. She opened her eyes.

Harry had either stopped much earlier along the rainbow of drinks than she had, or else he'd already dosed himself with some of the small vial he was holding out to her. He was in an Arrows' practice uniform, but he looked too clean to have come from a workout. Bright eyes looked down at her, and Ginny got the strange feeling they were searching her face for something. He held it closer. "Do you want it?"

"Hell yes," said Ginny. She took the bottle and cracked the seal around the cap. Once the warmth had spread almost to her toes, and the pounding in her head dulled to a muffled and occasional thump, she finally felt able to focus on her benefactor.

"Thank you, Harry," she said fervently. "You don't know how much I needed that."

He chuckled. "Actually, I probably do," he said.

Ginny chuckled back. "Touche," she said. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up." She made a face. "Vomited in my dustbin, probably. I'm feeling better now."

"That's good," he said. He rocked on the balls of his feet. "And umm, at least you didn't end up in the paper, right?"

Ginny snorted, relieved that the action didn't hurt her head. "I assume not," she said. "Dam told me that was one of the advantages of that pub; reporters can't get in."

"Ahh, right," said Harry. "I forgot it was warded. I uhh, guess that's a good thing, then, right? That it's warded like that? Cause otherwise you might have . . . umm, you know." He trailed off.

"Been in the paper?" Ginny looked at Harry and noticed a flush creeping up his cheeks. She waved her hand at him. "Go ahead, take the mickey, I'm feeling well enough now to handle it now." She leaned back. "Although, I don't know that the public readership is as interested in whom Damacles Clarke hooks up with as they are with Harry Potter's latest conquest." She gave him a teasing smirk.

Harry didn't smile back. "Hooked . . . hooked up? You and Dam, you hooked up?" His voice was choked, and he suddenly swiveled his head back and forth, looking around the room as if he expected Dam to step out of the kitchen. "I thought you two just . . . at the pub or here?" He took a couple of steps back from the bed.

"At the pub, Harry, you saw us," said Ginny. She wondered if the drinks had messed with her recollection, but she was nearly positive that Harry had practically waved her and Dam into their private purple corner. She frowned. "Didn't you? And then you said you were going to sit with Ron and Hermione." She rubbed at her eyes, trying to figure out what she wasn't remembering. Harry was rocking back and forth again, and his mouth was set in a thin line. Ginny frowned.

"Don't tell me you and Ron still have a problem with seeing me have a snog, Harry." She remembered what Parvati and had said. "I'm not at Hogwarts anymore, you know. Snogging Dean behind a tapestry.

Harry waved his hand impatiently. "Snogging, fine. I suspected you've been wanting to kiss Dam since you met him. But . . . hooking up with him? And drunk?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't have thought . . ."

Ginny stared at Harry. "Wait. What exactly do you think Dam and I did?" she asked slowly.

Harry shrugged. "You said you hooked up. That means, you know . . . sex. Or something close to it." He suddenly seemed very interested in the pattern on the curtain by her bed.

Ginny was horrified. "Holy shit, Harry, Dam and I didn't have sex last night. Or anything close to it." She leaned forward and pushed at his hip until her turned back and looked at her again. "I know I was drunk, but I'd remember that."

Harry seemed to relax a fraction. "But you said . . . you hooked up. I thought that means, I mean, I always heard . . . that's sex."

"Oh." Now it was Ginny's turn to blush. "Right." She shuffled on the bed. "When I was maybe seven or eight, I overheard Bill and Charlie talking about a witch Bill had hooked up with. He'd just graduated from Hogwarts and was training at Gringotts. I asked what he meant – I had a terrible vision that Bill and the witch had been cursed, hauled up into the air on a giant hook or something. I couldn't figure out why he seemed so embarrassed about it, but I thought maybe it was that he wasn't doing a good job in his training class. He finally told me 'hooking up' meant snogging." She gave a little shrug. "So in my mind, that's what it's always meant. I forget that it means a lot more to everyone else."

Harry let out a deep breath. "Oh, that's . . . oh. Okay then. Yeah, right. I can see how you'd think that. If Bill had told you. That's good."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "It's good that I still talk like a seven year old?"

Harry looked embarrassed. "No, umm, it's just, I . . . think it's good you didn't mean that 'hooking up' means sex. That you didn't, you know, _have_ it. Sex. With Dam."

The look on Harry's face was unexpectedly sincere, and Ginny found herself matching his tone. "Yeah, well, that's not exactly the way I'd want to lose my virginity, you know? Buzzed, on a couch in a pub, with a bloke I don't really care about." She gave him a small grin. "No matter how hot he might be."

"You haven't . . . oh." Harry shuffled his feet. "I didn't know if. . . not with Dean?"

Ginny snorted. "When I was fifteen?"

Harry laughed too. "Oh, yeah. I guess not. And not since then either . . .? I mean, I'd have heard if you were dating someone. Ron would have told me," he added, rather unnecessarily.

"Ron's always been a little _too _interested in who I am or am not kissing," she agreed. "Especially considering how nice I've been to him about Hermione, despite the fact that it took him far too long to get his head out of his arse and realize he liked her." She gave Harry a questioning look. "So, the entire time the three of you were off searching for Horcruxes, the two of them never . . .?"

"No," said Harry quickly. His face shuttered suddenly, and Ginny remembered an overheard conversation. _Ron left, but then he came back._

"Right," she said. "I guess that wouldn't really have been the time or place." She tried to mask the awkwardness. "In a small tent, I mean."

Harry nodded. "It was bad enough hearing Ron snore," he said, and it was clear he wasn't going to say anything more.

The silence stretched. Harry played with the curtains again.

"Sooooo," Ginny said finally. "Have you?"

Harry looked startled, and Ginny wondered just where his mind had been. "Have I what?"

"Had sex, of course." Ginny looked at him frankly. "I told you, it's only fair that you tell me." She grinned. "But first, you need to sit down and stop trying to rehang my curtains, or whatever it is you've been doing." She pointed at the fabric tie, which was currently undone and twisted around Harry's thumb. He blushed and hastily retied it. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Umm, should I . . . where should I sit?"

Ginny scooted over closer to the wall. "Here's fine, I don't really feel much like getting out of bed yet." She grabbed one of her extra pillows and threw it at him, watching as he plucked it effortlessly out of the air. "Okay," he finally said. He moved to sit down.

Ginny thought of something. "Wait!" she said. Harry froze, looking guarded. "What?"

"Would you go get me a glass of water first? Please? The cups are in the second cupboard in the kitchen."

Harry grinned. "No need," he said. He raised his wand and closed his eyes. Ginny heard the soft creak and then bump of her cabinet opening and closing, and the clink of ice cubes. A few seconds later, a glass floated towards them and hovered in front of Harry. "Auguamenti," he said, handing her the cup of ice-water.

"Show off," she muttered, but she was impressed. "I spill mine half the time."

Harry grinned again. "I get thirsty a lot. And I'm lazy."

Ginny snorted. "You're probably the least lazy person I know, Harry." She kicked the blankets back. "Now sit. You owe me the answer to my question."

"Right," said Harry. "Your question." He made no move to sit down.

"Harry, I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I have to keep looking up at you. There's plenty of room and very little chance that I'm going to get sick, so please, sit down, or else I'll have to make you." Ginny pointed her wand for emphasis. She expected a snarky comment back about how she always relied on the threat of a hex to get what she wanted, but Harry just nodded meekly and sat on the edge of the bed. She gave him an expectant look, and after a minute, he kicked off his shoes and twisted so that he was sitting fully on the bed, facing her.

"Happy now?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "Not yet, not until you answer my question." She leaned forward. "Come on, Harry, I know everyone else's status, even Percy's." She whispered conspiratorially. "He's a no, but I'm trying to find him a witch to date. Maybe I can look for one for you too."

For some reason, Harry looked cross. "I don't need you to find me a girlfriend, Ginny," he said.

"Why, because you're doing such a good job finding one yourself?" Ginny teased. "Come on, Harry, I bet I'd be good at figuring out your type. Unless . . . you're not interested in one of those fan-witches outside, are you?"

"Absolutely not," said Harry quickly. "Hell no."

Ginny laughed. "I didn't think so. Not even for a snog in a bar, huh?"

Harry shook his head. "What would be the point? It's not like we'd have anything to talk about; they're only interested in being able to say they've snogged Harry Potter and gotten their picture in the paper." He shuddered slightly. "It was bad enough the first time."

Ginny grimaced in sympathy. "Okay then, no fan-witches. Or wizards, for that matter."

"Not those either," Harry agreed. He leaned back against the footboard, frowned, and then took the pillow she had thrown at him and put it behind his back before leaning back again.

Ginny looked at Harry for a moment, considering. He looked back at her. "What?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to figure out your type," she said. "You didn't date at Hogwarts, so I don't have that much to go on. Parvati thought maybe you'd fancied Cho Chang for a while, but were too shy to do anything about it." Ginny poked Harry's foot with her own. "Did you? Fancy Cho Chang? She's smart and pretty, and she must like Quidditch. What about her?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "I uhh, yeah. I guess I thought she was kind of cute, once. But then she just seemed to ask me all these questions about Cedric and, I dunno." He shook his head. "I don't think she's really my type. I don't know if I really have a _type_ anyway. If I find someone, I think it will be because of who she is as a person, not because she fits into some particular category." He shrugged.

Ginny wasn't deterred. She didn't know if it was the rather resigned look on Harry's face, or the fact that he'd saved her day by bringing her hangover potion, but she wanted to help him if she could. Somehow, she knew that, despite his reticence on the subject, Harry really did want a girlfriend. But she also knew that it had to be the right one, and that he likely had no idea how to go about finding one. She leaned forward.

"Well, we know it's someone who has to like Quidditch a lot, of course. That's probably one of the reasons you never fancied Hermione, right?"

Harry shuddered. "There are a _lot_ of reasons I never fancied Hermione," he said quickly. "Even before I realized that Ron did. She's like a sister to me, you know? A slightly older, somewhat bossy sister who tells me to study all the time." He grinned. "Somehow, when she's bossy to Ron, it's completely different."

"Completely," agreed Ginny. "I think her bossiness is kind of a turn-on to him, you know?"

Harry groaned. "I know. It's almost become like foreplay for them." He face grew serious. "But she's also been super loyal, all the way back to first year. I can't say that about many people."

"Including my brother," said Ginny bluntly. "During the Tri-wizard Tournament." She didn't even bother mentioning Ron's departure during the Horcrux hunt.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not always an easy person to be friends with," he said. And especially for Ron, who's . . ." He sighed. "Let's just say I get it even better now than I used to. And more importantly, he does too. I don't think it's going to be an issue anymore. He's my best friend, he's saved my life on more than once, and he's like a brother. Now more than ever, I don't think I could have . . ." He broke off. "Well, it's been a hard year, as you know. But Ron has really . . . stepped up."

Ginny supposed this wasn't news to her; when she stopped to think about it, she'd noticed the changes in Ron too, although she hadn't put a name to them until now." He's more confident," she said. "But not cocky about it. I think he believes in himself more."

Harry nodded. "Exactly. And being with Hermione has helped a lot too."

Ginny grinned. "So, he's like a brother, she's like a sister. Do either of them come to you for advice?"

Harry groaned again. "Not yet, and I hope not ever. I'm not sure I could handle that. It's hard enough suspecting – and sometimes hearing – what they are getting up to when they're alone." He gave her a rueful grin. "I go running a lot."

"All the more reason we need to find you a witch," she said promptly. "So far, we've got Quidditch. What else? Someone smart, I'd imagine?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Smart's important," he said. "But not necessarily Ravenclaw smart. Someone who . . . knows what's going on in the world."

"Like with the Ministry," said Ginny. "You need to be able to trust her enough to share that kind of thing with her, and know she's not going to be frightened off." She nodded to herself, thinking about what else Harry would want in a witch, and what kind of person would be best for him. "Someone who doesn't care that she's dating Harry Potter, and who understands your need for privacy. It shouldn't be something you have to explain to her; she has to just know. And someone powerful magically," she finished. "Who's not afraid to use her magic."

"Someone not afraid," echoed Harry. "Someone brave." He was quiet for a moment. "So, someone who was in Gryffindor, I guess."

"Gryffindor's a good start," said Ginny. "Although, plenty of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws fought in the Final Battle too. I'd say you could find someone brave there from one of those houses too." She frowned to herself, thinking. "I know Parvati's not your type, but what about Padma? She's a bit more serious."

"Ron took her to the Yule Ball and I don't think she's forgiven either of us yet," said Harry dryly.

"Not Padma, then," said Ginny. "How about Susan Bones? I think she's single."

Harry was looking around. "Do you have any Butterbeer?"

"Umm, sure," said Ginny. "In my icebox." She picked up her wand. "I'll get it."

Once Harry was drinking his butterbeer (which Ginny was pleased to see had not shaken up in transit), and they were both eating cookies her mum had sent over, silence descended. Despite the comfort with which they'd been talking earlier, Ginny struggled to find something to say now. Harry's made it pretty obvious he didn't want to talk about witches anymore, and Ginny wasn't sure if he wanted to hear some of her concerns about the Aurors. She was about to resort to the safe topic of Quidditch - a step backwards, it felt like – when Harry finally spoke.

"So, Dam, huh? I guess I know what your type is then."

Ginny snorted before she stopped to think. "Hardly," she said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Hardly?"

Ginny backtracked. "I mean, I know he's your captain and all, and he'd probably want . . . it's just . . ." She sighed. "You won't tell him, will you? What I said?"

Harry gave her a gentle smile. "I won't tell," he promised. Ginny believed him. "But," he continued. "If I'm going to keep such a big secret, I think I have the right to know why you are so sure, after a single night of drunken snogging, that the great Damacles Clarke is not your type." Harry leaned back against his pillow and put his hands behind his head. "I've got plenty of time."

For a brief second, Ginny considered the _oddness_ of the situation. Harry was her brother's best mate, someone she'd known since she was ten. She'd spent a lot of those years being rather irritated with him. Granted, they seemed to be getting along better these days, but that hadn't stopped her from putting her foot in her mouth on more than one occasion or his behavior making her want to hex him. That's why it should have felt less comfortable than it did to sit with him and talk about last night, or about anything else having to do with her and what type of man she was interested in. True, she'd interrogated Harry pretty heavily on his own love life, but she'd bugged most of her brothers at one time or another too. But talking with her brothers about her own experiences was something Ginny really didn't do. She'd just expect them to tease, or roll their eyes, or – in Ron's case – get rather apoplectic.

But Harry's expression was earnest, and Ginny didn't get the impression he was waiting to find out what he could so that he could run off to Ron with stories. Indeed, hadn't she told Parvati that Harry likely got rather annoyed having to listen to Ron complaining about it? Ron would probably be the last person Harry would tell. She nodded.

"Do you remember the night Dam brought you here after your hazing night? What you did?"

Harry gave her a questioning look. "You mean, pass out on your sofa and then get sick in your loo? Only partly."

Ginny shook her head. "I mean, before that. It didn't even occur to me at the time that it was unusual." She pointed her wand towards her living room. "I guess the rest of the team was in the hallway when Dam brought you here. You set a silencing charm so we couldn't hear them." She looked at him. "You don't remember?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Not really," he said. "Everything from that night's pretty blurry from about the time I started kissing that witch." He grimaced. "I wish I could block more of that out." He rubbed across his face. "I remember seeing you, here in the flat, and I remember, umm, that you took that bra from me." He flushed and Ginny laughed. "I think I still have it somewhere," she said. "I'll probably find it when I finally give this place a good cleaning."

"So, never," said Harry with a laugh.

"I'd kick you, but you're probably right," sighed Ginny. She sat up. "But that's the thing, you were so drunk you don't even remember what you did, and yet, your silencing charm was perfect." She shook her head. "Dam seemed to have a lot more trouble with simple spells last night. And he wasn't nearly as drunk as you'd been."

"Ahhh, right," said Harry. He looked down at his hands. "It's something I've noticed too," he said. "But I'd appreciate it if you don't say anything to anyone else." He looked up at her. "I'm not sure who else might think so, and really, it's none of their business."

Ginny nodded. "Dam's not a terribly powerful wizard," she said. It wasn't a question.

Harry gave a slight nod of agreement. "He's not, although I think he's learned how to hide it fairly well, unless you're really paying attention. "He didn't go to Hogwarts, or anywhere else. His parents taught him a bit at home and he played a lot of Quidditch. I think it's the only thing he ever wanted to do. And he's really, really good."

"He is," Ginny agreed. "And he's still very good looking, of course."

"Of course," Harry agreed. "You'd have to be blind not to notice that." He smirked. "But 'abs you can climb like a ladder' aren't enough for you?"

Ginny laughed. "Where did you ever hear that? I mean, I can confirm now that it's true, but that sounds like something Witch Weekly would write."

Harry grinned. "It is. We keep a subscription in the training rooms for the purpose of finding gems like that." He sighed. "Although I don't usually tease him, considering what the magazine usually has to say about me."

"I've seen some of it," Ginny admitted. "I'm taking all the papers now, to help look for patterns that might be important for the Aurors." She gave him a teasing look. "Do you really add a coloring charm to your eyes to make them more emerald?"

Harry groaned. "I'm never going to live that down, am I? George and Fred told me they were considering marketing a "Harry Potter's eyes" set of lenses, and I'm not sure if they were completely joking." He pursed his lips. "What else do you have on me? I might as well be prepared before I see you again at the Burrow."

Ginny put her hands on her hips, which was admittedly less dramatic from her position on the bed. "Me? What about you? I'm sure I'll barely get through the door before you tell my entire family I got drunk and kissed Dam. Remember the Newts?

"That was Fred and George," Harry protested.

"But you got them extend the spell with your comment," she said. "If I remember correctly, you said that they would make it 'hard for me to get close enough to snog anyone.' Then you and Ron went outside to play Quidditch and I had to sit there for another two hours waiting for the things to leave me alone." She shook her head.

"Fred and George are one thing, Harry, but Ron used to be on my side. We had each other's backs, especially against Fred and George. But then it became you and him instead, to tease me, or treat me like I'm still a little kid? I'm only sixteen months younger that he is, and only a year younger than you." Ginny tried very hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Harry had gone very still. When he finally spoke, his words were careful and measured.

"That first morning, when Fred and George brought me to the Burrow, I didn't know what to expect. I guess I just followed everyone else's lead. They were joking about you going to Hogwarts, and it was a lot like the way Fred and George had treated Ron the year before." He shrugged. "I figured that was how close families acted toward each other." He sat forward. "But that was a long time ago. And you always seemed to give as good as you got, to me as much as the rest of them. Has it really bothered you all this time? You never said anything."

Ginny felt herself flush. Put the way Harry said it, her complaint sounded more petty than she'd always thought. But she knew it wasn't completely imagined. She gathered her thoughts for a moment, wanting to be as deliberate as Harry.

"If I'd asked you to stop teasing me, do you think you would have listened? Or just followed whatever Ron did instead?"

Harry shuffled on the bed, and she knew he was considering her question. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I probably would have done whatever Ron did. Especially, umm, after the Chamber. I didn't quite know what to do."

Ginny watched as Harry shuffled on the bed again. It was like this during every one of the few times the topic had come up between them, Harry seemed uncomfortable and Ginny had never quite been able to say what she wanted. But now the words spilled out of her more easily.

"I figured, after the Chamber, that Ron and I would be close again. I mean, I knew you were his best friend, and Hermione, but I really thought . . . I mean, he'd just saved me, you know? And you too. And while everyone else was lecturing me, and worrying, and Fred and George were even teasing me, Ron was quiet about it. And you were there in Dumbledore's office, remember? Telling us all what happened? I thought things were going to change. But they didn't."

The look on Harry's face made her stop. If anything, her words had made him even more uncomfortable, and Ginny wondered if she sounded petty again, complaining about something that had happened so long ago. But Harry had mentioned the Chamber first; she wasn't completely out of line talking about it.

He almost looked ready to climb off the bed, and for a moment, Ginny thought he might. But then he took a deep breath. He was looking down at hands when he answered. "I just . . . followed Ron's lead again, like you said." Harry looked at her, finally, but Ginny sensed it was difficult for him to meet her gaze. He swallowed. "Ron, after he . . . rescued you, he starting teasing you again, and I figured that it was better that way. To treat you like normal and not mention everything that had happened. So that's what I did, I guess."

It made a lot more sense to Ginny now. Back in her second year, she'd only thought of her own hurt. She nodded, half to herself. "You were thirteen," she said. "And thought you had a crazed murderer after you. I suppose you weren't thinking much about me."

Harry gave a small nod of agreement. "I had a lot on my mind, for sure," he said. "But . . . yeah. Eventually I should have recognized that you were not just . . . well, I mean, I knew you were more than . . . because of the DA, and the Ministry. And the night Dumbledore died. And everything while we were gone. But I guess I didn't treat you that way, did I?"

Ginny understood something. "You treated me the way I expected you to treat me. I was jealous," she said flatly. "Jealous of you and Ron and Hermione, although I was more tolerant of Hermione because I knew she kind of drove Ron crazy too." Ginny grinned for a moment. "And after I figured out why, it was even easier." She shook her head. "But yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup, Bill told me I needed to get the chip off my shoulder about feeling like everyone treated me like a little kid, because I was asking for it." She grimaced. "At the time, I was. And I was looking for it, to be treated like 'little Ginny,' at least with my family."

"And with me," said Harry. He quirked his head at her. "Because, that's how you feel right? That I'm like another one of your brothers?" He had an odd expression on his face as he asked.

Ginny thought about it. "Well, yes," she said, watching Harry give a small nod of understanding, ". . . and no," she finished. "Not exactly, not really." She realized she'd gained a lot more clarity, just in the past hour they'd been talking. "I never really got as annoyed with my brothers as I did with you." It felt strangely good to admit that. "Of course, they were going to tease me. And I was going to tease them back. But like I said, it had always kind of been me and Ron against them. Not all the time," she amended hastily. "The older we got, the more he wanted to be treated like the rest of them. But usually, he and I hung out. Especially after Fred and George left for Hogwarts." She looked at Harry, wondering how to say it. Finally, she decided that honestly was the best.

"And then, Ron goes off to school and pretty soon we hear he's got a new best friend, but it's not any best friend, it's Harry Potter. And I thought that was pretty great of Ron, to become best friends with you." Ginny shook her head for a second. "But not because, you know, who you were. Kind of the opposite actually."

"How so?" asked Harry. He sat forward.

"I figured, that if you were friends with Ron, you must be okay," Ginny said. "Ron can be a prat sometimes, but he's a pretty good judge of character."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

Ginny didn't smile back. "But when you came to the Burrow for the first time, you and Ron . . . you both treated me like a little kid." She looked at Harry earnestly. "You didn't even know me yet, but you acted like you did, like you were just another one of my brothers, and treated me like they did, like you automatically had the right." She shook her head. "I didn't like it."

Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, but Ginny rushed on.

"And then, instead of Ron _including _me, he wanted you all to himself. We didn't even have a chance to become friends or anything." She looked right at Harry. "So no, it wasn't like I thought of you as one of my brothers. But you acted like thought you were, or you wanted to be." She gave a little shrug. "That's all, I guess."

Harry rubbed his hand over his face. "Ginny, I'm so sorry," he said. He looked up at her and made a convulsive movement with his arm. For a wild moment, Ginny thought he was going to grab her hand. But he just brushed at the blankets for a second and then pulled back.

"You were a kid, I get that now," Ginny said. "And I was upset that I'd lost Ron, but it likely was going to happen anyway when he left for school."

"I had no idea how to act around any of you," said Harry quietly. He looked up at her. "Copying Ron was the best I could do; I'd never seen a proper family."

Now it was Ginny who felt an odd urge to grab Harry's hand. She didn't, but hoped her soft _ohh _of understanding conveyed something to him. "We were both very young," she said. "And I know that I, at least, was very self-absorbed. She gave a self-derisive snort. "No wonder it was so easy for Tom to get into my head."

"It was easy for Tom to get in your head because he was evil," said Harry firmly. "I know you've heard that dozens of times, but it's true. I know better than anyone, remember?"

Ginny snorted again. "You forgot that winter at Grimmauld Place," she said. Almost immediately, she regretted her words. But Harry didn't close up like he had the last time she'd said something thoughtless. He grimaced, and then nodded. "You were furious with me, and rightly so," he said.

Furious was an understatement. All the worry Ginny had been feeling about her father had bubbled over and she'd called Harry a number of choice words and then hexed him with one of her strongest Bat Bogey's ever. He'd snorted bats for nearly thirty minutes, refusing pleas from nearly everyone to reverse the spell. Finally, she'd given into Sirius, when he told her that all the bats were making the house itself nervous, and he couldn't be certain that it wouldn't unleash even more trouble. She hadn't spoken to Harry for the entire rest of the Christmas holiday.

"You tried to apologize; I wouldn't let you," she remembered. "I don't even remember when I finally started talking to you again."

"It was on the train back to school; you asked for help with your bags," Harry said immediately. He gave her a sheepish smile. "I was relieved the silent treatment was over."

"I still don't think I was very nice to you for a while though," said Ginny. "Until after Umbridge caught the DA at least. And then . . . the Ministry." Her ire at Harry had melted away completely in the face of the seriousness of that year.

"I'd still like the chance to apologize, though." This time, Harry did put his hand out, and touched her leg. "It was inexcusable of me to forget what you'd been through, and you had every right to be angry. Maybe not . . . _quite_ as angry as you got, but still, I deserved it."

"Apology accepted," said Ginny promptly. "And for what it's worth, I don't think you'd ever forget now."

Harry nodded. "Like you, I was also rather self-absorbed back then."

"I think most teens are," said Ginny. She gave an enormous yawn.

Harry jumped up and off the bed. "You must be exhausted. The potion is sleep-inducing. I should go; I really just meant to come by to make sure you were . . . okay. I didn't mean to intrude for so long on your day off."

Another wave of drowsiness hit and Ginny yawned again. "It's okay, Harry. It's a long weekend, remember? I'll have plenty of time to rest." She leaned forward and grabbed his hand. "Thank you," she said, and she hoped he could hear the sincerity in her voice. "And not just for the potion."

Harry nodded. "Me too," he said. "Do you need more water before I go?"

Ginny shook her head and burrowed a little deeper into her covers. "I think I have enough," she said. "Or else I'll try that spell myself."

"The trick to not spilling is to keep your wand in the final position until the cup has gotten all the way to you," Harry said. "If you drop your arm too early, you'll spill."

"I'll remember that," said Ginny sleepily. Out of the corner of her half-closed eyes, she saw Harry turn away and look at her door.

"I'll just let myself out then," he said. "I'm expected for a run with the team soon anyway, although I don't know what shape most will be in." He cocked his head. "Should I . . . umm . . . should I tell Dam anything for you?"

"Just that I'm still recovering," said Ginny. "I'll have to talk to him later, I suppose."

"Sounds good," said Harry. "Have a good nap."

"Mmmmhmmm," murmured Ginny.

Harry was almost at her door when a last thought popped into Ginny's head, pushing away a few sleepy cobwebs. She opened her eyes. "Harry?"

He stopped. "Yes?"

"This conversation isn't over. You still owe me the answer to my question."

Sleepy as she was, Ginny could hear the smile in Harry's voice when he answered. "I promise to tell you absolutely everything, Ginny. Next time."

"Next time," she agreed. She rolled over and closed her eyes again as the door closed behind Harry.

A/N2: Harry and Ginny will definitely talk again; there are a couple of other topics I couldn't work into this chapter. But the next chapter should have more action. I tend to rely heavily on dialogue in my stories, and I do like writing it, but this was a challenge, since we've yet to see Harry's POV. That may change soon.


	9. Aurors and Arrows

A/N: So, a huge apology for how long this has taken to get written. I know I warned you, but even I was surprised at how little time I've actually had, between a new job, a high school graduation and all-night lock-in, dance recital, birthdays, the end of the school year, preparing kids for overnight camp, and I could go on, but I won't. I'm posting this without much beta input, and for that I apologize, to her and to anyone reading. I just needed to get it finished. All mistakes, mischaracterizations, poorly thought out conversations, etc., are my own.

By the way, if you like Jasper Fforde, I do too. I hope it's at least a little apparent in this chapter.

Their lecturer that morning was new. He was stocky and muscular, with bright blue eyes that looked as if they should sparkle. There was nothing jovial about his expression though, in fact, Ginny thought he looked rather dour. Everyone seemed attuned to the serious atmosphere, stopping conversations and sitting down more quickly than usual.

"Shepherd Kane," he said by way of introduction. "I'm going to prepare you for your first mission." Excited murmurs broke out around the room. Predictably, Copernicus raised his hand.

"Excuse me, but I thought Auror protocol required five months of classroom time before trainees are allowed out in the field. We've only had three."

"Shut up, Cop, we want to get outside," muttered Ernie, while Lee flicked a paper Snitch at Copernicus' back. Their lecturer ignored them, waiting until the room quieted again.

"Former protocol did require five months of in-class time first, but the policy has changed." Ginny wasn't sure she imagined that their instructor's eyes flicked in her direction or not, but she sat up straighter in her seat. He continued in the same measured tone. "Several important endeavors have gone unattended, in major part due to the unfortunate departure of Mr. Potter last Spring, as you are all undoubtedly aware."

This time, Ginny knew she wasn't imagining that Kane's gaze lingered on her for a long beat. Next to her, Ron shuffled in his seat; he'd noticed too. A second later, he raised his hand.

"So you're saying you need twelve of us to replace Harry?" Ginny could hear the skepticism in Ron's voice. "I worked with him a lot last year. . ."

"And the six years before that," interrupted Ginny. Ron nodded in agreement. "That's true, as you are undoubtedly aware." Ron threw the instructor's words back at him. The man nodded but didn't say anything. Ron shrugged. "I know Harry was off on his own for a while too, but I can't imagine the Aurors would have entrusted anything so vital to a single bloke who was barely eighteen that they need an entire training class to replace him."

Kane was quiet for a long beat. When he finally spoke, Ginny had the distinct impression the Auror had set them up. "Ahhh, but you also know better than almost anyone, Mr. Weasley, that Mr. Potter is not just an ordinary eighteen year old." The man's voice was quiet, but the class was quieter, listening. "His talents and his . . . qualities stretch well beyond the ordinary, and yes, losing him created a vacuum of power that will take some work to replace."

Coming from someone else, the words may have been complimentary, but Ginny felt uncomfortable. She wasn't familiar with Shepherd Kane, but he reminded her of Robards, and the way he'd spoken to her about Harry. She hadn't liked the head Auror's insinuations then, and she didn't like hearing the sentiment now.

"He's nineteen." It was an incongruous statement; Ginny knew it didn't really matter to the Aurors that Harry had had a birthday. But she didn't know as much as Ron did to be able to point out the exaggerations in Kane's words.

"Miss Weasley," the Auror turned towards her. "Yes, nineteen. And I would assume that you, like your brother, understand why Mr. Potter's departure put us in such a bind?" He raised his eyebrows. "You've taken it upon yourself to ensure Harry's not bothered at his new position, haven't you?"

Ginny ignored Kane's innuendo about the press conference. "Ron didn't say that," she said hotly. "Quite the opposite, actually. He said there's no way that one person could be that important."

"I'm not sure Mr. Weasley believes that," said Kane mildly. "Nor do you." His eyes bored into Ginny and she knew with certainty the man was using Legilimency on her. It was a calculated move; if she broke eye contact, she'd look weak, but if not, he'd be able to sense her thoughts. Her Occlumency was rudimentary at most.

Ginny kept her gaze on the Kane, thankful for the first time that Harry hadn't told her much of anything about his time with the Aurors yet. After a minute, he looked away. "Perhaps not," she heard him mutter. He gave Ginny what she assumed was supposed to be a smile; it did not reach his eyes. "You've talked to Gawain, have you not? About your own . . . qualities, and how they may help now?" The man raised his hands to silence Ginny's interruption. "I understand your hesitance, but let me assure you . . . let me assure _all _of you," Kane's eyes swept the room, "that the Aurors have taken to heart certain . . . concerns Mr. Potter shared with us. Your work in pursuit of fighting Dark Magic carries with it no reason to hesitate. You have my word." His eyes landed on Ginny again.

"Let me tell you again, Miss Weasley, how very . . . grateful the Aurors are to have you working for us in particular. I think you will find that your own unique qualities will give you insight into our fight against evil beyond that of most of the other trainees." Kane inclined his head at the rest of the room. "Not that I'm not entirely confident in the rest of your abilities, of course. And I think you will find your own work to be more . . . productive, as a result."

"Of course," Ron said quickly. "But Ginny's special, right?" He'd crossed his arms, and Ginny recognized that he was moving into "protective older brother" mode. She absolutely did not need Ron to stick up for her, and he knew it, but for some reason, it didn't bother her. He gave her a quick glance and then looked away. _We'll talk later_, it said. He seemed about to say something else with Parvati interrupted.

"It's because of the Chamber, isn't it? Why Ginny's different?" Most of the others were nodding in agreement, and Ginny was again struck by how savvy Kane was. He'd set Ginny up as something apart from the others, but intimated that having her on their team could advance all of them. She couldn't leave without letting the other trainees down, and they'd be likely to support her efforts, less likely towards jealousy.

"I don't think . . ." she began, but Copernicus stopped her.

"But you don't know for sure, right, Ginny?" He peered at her, a dozen or more questions likely running through his head. She might be there all day, answering them and consequently giving up more information than she wanted to, if she didn't handle this right. She shrugged and nodded.

"You're right. I don't know." Ginny broadened her glance to include the others. "I don't know much more than anyone else here, despite my past . . . experience. So I guess we'll all learn together." _There. I'm just a green trainee myself, Kane. Remember that._

The Auror smiled again, and Ginny knew he wasn't fooled. He didn't say more about it, though Ginny knew the matter would come up again. Hopefully she could talk to Ron first so she'd be better prepared. And she really needed to talk to Harry, too. She hadn't seen him after their talk the previous weekend; the Arrows had left that evening for a road trip. But she'd sent him an owl thanking him again for the potion, and had added a casual _I enjoyed our talk_ postscript to the end. There was more to it than just that, but she hadn't quite known how to put into words the odd sense of relief she felt after she and Harry had cleared some of the misunderstanding between them. Or, maybe _relief_ wasn't the right word. It was more that a small weight of irritation had been lifted, one Ginny hadn't exactly been aware of carrying. They'd apologized to each other before, for any number of little annoyances or thoughtless words, but for the first time, Ginny had some confidence it was permanent.

Not to mention that she hadn't wanted to say more in case Dam or anyone else had intercepted the note; she'd meant it when she'd promised Harry she wouldn't tell anyone what he'd admitted about the captain. And, when she admitted it to herself, she wasn't quite ready to share anything else she and Harry had talked about, even with Ron or Hermione. She suspected he'd been holding back – beyond the story of his sexual past – and she hoped that the next time they talked, he'd be more forthcoming. At the very least, Ginny planned to ask him more about the Aurors.

Harry's return owl had arrived soon after. His _me too, but let's both try to be sober next time we talk, _had made her smile.

The darkening of the room interrupted Ginny's thoughts. Kane had lowered the lights, and a glowing map of Southern England appeared on the wall in front of them. Certain spots gleamed brighter than others. At first, Ginny thought they related to villages and towns, but when she looked closer, they seemed to be more randomly arrayed; she stopped counting after two dozen.

"Sites of suspected dark activity," said Shepherd. "Mostly individual homes. Not any of the more serious ones, of course. You aren't quite ready to take down a fully-grown dark wizard or former Death Eater on your own. That will be next month." His mouth quirked with the attempted joke and belated chuckles broke out among the trainees.

"Yes, well, these sites are of interest to the Aurors anyway," Kane continued, as if his humor hadn't fallen flat. "They need to be investigated, and you will be paired up to conduct interviews with . . . persons who might have information we need." He gestured to the map. "Dark activity can arise anywhere," he said. "But rooting out potential threats before they've caused damage can be difficult. That's where all of you come in."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny's thoughts were swirling when she separated from Ron at the end of training that day. They had spoken more in pointed looks and subtle kicks under desks than words as Shepherd Kane had described the protocol for the interviews they'd soon be conducting. She knew the two of them had to talk for real – and soon – but tonight wasn't the time. Ron was rushing home to meet Hermione for a last private dinner in his flat before Harry returned, and there were too many people around the exit from the Ministry for him to say any more than a muttered "talk soon" as he whirled off.

Ginny watched her brother leave with amused exasperation. For some reason, he and Hermione preferred to spend their "alone time" in the flat Ron shared with Harry over Hermione's private, but admittedly shabbier, one. At first, Ginny had thought it was because Ron enjoyed the latent attention he got from the fan-witches, being roommates with Harry Potter and all. Now, she strongly suspected that he used the front entrance so often as a way to keep an extra eye on things. If Ginny had to admit it, her opinion of her brother had changed for the better too.

Ginny, on the other hand, had embraced being finally allowed to use the private back alley to come and go, and hadn't seen any of the fan-witches up close in several weeks. But her mind was still on work as she left her favorite shop with a bag of takeaway for her supper, and muscle memory had carried her almost to her building's front walk before she realized where she was.

Briefly, she considered turning around and walking somewhere out of sight before Apparating to the back, but she'd already been spotted, and she refused to give any of the curious eyes the satisfaction of thinking they'd been able to scare her off.

Doing her best to ignore the muttering, Ginny marched up the front walk. Still, she couldn't completely drown out some of the louder comments.

_. . .heard she shagged Dam Clarke, now she's done almost the whole team . . ._

_. . . bats everywhere, better watch yourself . . ._

_. . .Harry hates her, I've heard. Even though he's best mates with her brother. . . _

That last remark, spoken in a disdaining voice, finally made Ginny whip around. She was unsurprised to see that the speaker was wearing a 'Potter fan club' t-shirt and a smirking expression. Equally unsurprising was the fact that the fan-witch's companion was Katerina Bellows, lately of Harry's hazing night and photo in the Daily Prophet. She gave Ginny a lazy grin. "Even living in the same building hasn't helped, has it, Weasley? That you need to resort to hexing anyone who talks to Potter, just to get attention?" She nudged her friend. "They've opened an inquiry at the Ministry; might kick her out of the Aurors. Using a dangerous hex like that."

Ginny squeezed her wand so tightly, her knuckles went white. Hexing a reporter who was harassing Harry was one thing; she doubted Gawain and Kingsley would be as understanding a second time. Unfortunately, she couldn't quite control her mouth as well as she did her wand.

"You're slipping with the gossip, Katerina," Ginny said, as sweetly as she could. "Harry thought my Bat Bogey Hex was brilliant. He told me himself." It was not the smartest thing to say; Ginny knew she was bragging, and she gave a mental apology to Harry for dragging him into this.

Katerina's eyes went wide, but a second later, her features were bland again. "Interesting," she said in a bored tone. She gave her companion a significant look. "Maybe we'll see you at the Shaky Legs then; you must know the Arrows get home tonight."

Ginny had known that; Harry's last owl had mentioned it. She feigned nonchalance. "Mmm, really?" she said. "I don't keep up with the team's schedule that carefully. I don't really have to, since we all live on the same hallway, you know?" She gave a cheery wave. "But it's good of you to follow them, so you know when to start your next camp out, right?"

Turning on her heel, Ginny walked to the door and yanked it open.

A young man in a delivery uniform was standing in the vestibule, holding a large white bag and staring at the parade of tenant faces rushing by on a patch of white wall next to the door.

"Mr. Ron Weasley," the man said firmly. By the slight desperation in his voice, Ginny suspected it was not his first attempt to contact her brother. Ron's face shot into view, hovered briefly on the wall, and then disappeared again. The delivery man swore.

"Can I help you?" asked Ginny.

The man turned. "I certainly hope so," he said. "I've been trying to deliver this sandwich to a Mr. Ron Weasley for almost ten minutes. My boss is going to kill me if I can't get it done soon." He gave Ginny a serious look. "It's a beef and cheddar special, with homemade chips. The warming charm only lasts so long, you know."

Ginny nodded. "So I've heard," she said. "That's Ron's favorite sandwich."

The man nodded again. "That's what they said. He orders it quite a bit, he does. But I've never delivered it before and I can't figure out how to call him. We promise door-to-door delivery in less than ten minutes. Tried using the Floo, you know, but the food didn't travel well with all the spinning. And owls . . ." the man shook his head. "You don't want to know." He looked hopefully at Ginny. "Can you help me get in? I've only got . . ." he looked at his watch. "another two minutes."

Ginny held out her hand. "Why don't I take it up for you? I live right down the hall. Ron's my brother," she added when the man frowned.

"I'm sorry, I can't let anyone else deliver the sandwich," he said. "Door-to-door delivery, that's what we promise." He lowered his voice. "Besides, he hasn't tipped yet."

"Ahh," said Ginny. "I see." She thought quickly. "In that case, I'd better open the door for us, don't you think?"

"Oh, thank you," said the man. He sounded rather eager. "Open the door. Yes, please."

Ginny stood between the man and the door and held out her wand, carefully thinking the unlocking spell in her head. As soon as the door began to open, she was unsurprised – and prepared – to feel the man try to rush past her into the lobby. He didn't get very far.

Ginny's containment spell would have been effective on its own, but when added to the building's wards, the delivery man was frozen so completely that even his eyebrows didn't move. Although, Ginny noted with amusement, _he _was actually a _she_. The transfiguration job had been decent, she had to admit, but the wards were better, and soon she was standing in front of a disgruntled looking woman in an _Harry Potter Fan _t-shirt. She was still trying to hold onto the white paper bag, but with a flick of Ginny's wand, it flew across the lobby and hovered in mid-air inside the safety spell she cast.

Ginny's actions didn't go unnoticed. Before she could even figure out who needed to get her Patronus, several pops announced the arrival of two Aurors, one of whom she recognized as having taught some of her practical classes. And a moment later, the entire Arrows team, fresh off their win in Wimbourne, burst into the lobby from the rear entrance.

"What the hell?" Dam was the first one into the lobby, but as soon as he caught sight of the Aurors and Ginny, her wand still out, he stuttered to a stop, looking panicked.

Ginny ignored him, as two spells she'd never seen before, flew past her from different directions. Dam dropped to the ground, and behind him, Adam Ramsey and Kipling Cross followed suit. Harry pushed past them, wand out, and Ginny realized that one of the spells had come from him.

"What about her?" he called, nodding at the still frozen fan-witch.

One of the Aurors shook her head. "She's secure." She looked at Ginny. "Excellent containment spell, Miss Weasley. The wards cancelled her transfiguration job and wouldn't have let her leave, but your spell froze her even more quickly." She raised her eyebrows. "Gawain was right. You're going to go far."

Ginny ignored the compliment. She pointed at the white bag, which was barely visible now behind a wall of white smoke. "What about that?"

The other Auror – Ginny thought he was called Bramley Rhodes – chuckled. "That's what we call overreaction," he said. "Whatever's in that bag has been contained . . . three times?" he said, counting quickly.

"It wasn't obviously neutralized," said the first Auror, with a touch of annoyance. "And there were a large number of innocents to be protected."

"Which was accomplished more than adequately by Harry's level three shield," said Rhodes. For the first time, Ginny realized that all of the Arrows except Harry were behind a glowing wall of protective light, much bigger and more solid than the ones they'd learned in the DA or even so far in training. She gave a low whistle.

"Am I going to learn how to do that?" she asked. "I've never seen such a solid shield before."

"Next week, actually," said the female Auror. She gave Ginny a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll be teaching you."

"Including how to shield a home so the inhabitants can't leave until they answer your questions?" Harry spoke casually, but there was no mistaking the accusation in his words. He came to stand beside Ginny, and he gave her arm a quick squeeze before turning back to the Auror. "Or will you have the trainees visit schoolyards first?"

Ginny couldn't quite follow what Harry meant, but another small piece of understanding fell into place, to be examined later. She kept her mouth shut, waiting to learn more.

"Now Harry, don't give away all our secrets," said the Auror. Ginny could see the warning in the woman's eyes, although when she caught Ginny looking at her, she gave a forced-sounding chuckle. "Especially ones that aren't true." She turned to Ginny. "Harry's joking with me about a particular case we had together where things . . . didn't go quite as planned. But that's to be expected in the Aurors, working against dangerous dark magic like we do." Next to her, Ginny felt Harry shift, but before he could speak, the Auror held up her hand. "As I'm sure Miss Weasley will tell you, we have adjusted our procedures to account for your concern." She looked at Ginny. "Isn't that what you've been told?"

Ginny knew there was more going on beneath the surface of the discussion, although she didn't know what the correct answer was right now. But next to her, Harry muttered "say yes," under his breath, so quietly Ginny wasn't sure she'd heard right. She gave a jerky nod. "That's right, that's what they told us," she said.

The Auror looked pleased. "That's what I thought."

"Well, I'm glad to hear the Aurors finally listened to me, Camilla," said Harry. Ginny suspected Harry didn't quite believe the Auror – who Ginny now knew was Camilla Stalk. She was supposedly a good friend of Gawain Robards, and had implemented some of the Aurors' most successful processes for capturing Dark wizards. Gossip among the trainees was that she and Robards may even be more than friends, although none of them had seen the two together, and Ginny didn't even know where the rumor had started. Camilla was looking at her with a shrewd expression, as if she knew what Ginny was thinking, and this time, Ginny broke eye contact quickly, lest her thoughts be laid bare. _She really needed to learn Occlumency._

As a distraction, she pointed at the still-frozen witch. "Don't you need to, I don't know, ask her some questions?" For it had occurred to Ginny that it was rather odd to have two senior Aurors attend to a matter that was, on the surface at least, no more than a matter involving an overly enthusiastic Arrows' fan. And now that they were here, they didn't seem particularly interested in her.

Bramley nodded. "Good call, Miss Weasley." He lifted his wand and then lowered it again. "Actually, why don't you do the questioning? It will be good experience for you."

Ginny was caught off guard by the request; they had only just begun learning interrogation techniques, and she knew almost nothing about how to question a suspect properly. It was almost certainly against Auror protocol to allow her anywhere near a suspect, even one as innocuous as this one. Bramley and Camilla were buttering her up for something, and it was for that precise reason that she immediately wanted to agree, even if it was - as she suspected - a trap. Ginny wished she could ask Harry what to do; she had to force herself not to look at him for advice. He understood a lot more than she did, though.

"Do it," he breathed out, and so Ginny squared her shoulders and walked over to the witch. She'd be damned if she'd let her hesitance show.

"Please remove the wards around her," she said in as firm a voice as she could muster.

"You need to cancel your containment spell yourself," reminded Camilla. Ginny flushed. "Right," she said. She hurriedly extinguished her spell and watched as the witch sagged a bit in place.

When all the wards, save a mild binding spell, were gone and Bramley had relieved the fan-witch of her wand, Ginny nodded to herself, this time unable to resist looking at Harry. He gave her an encouraging smile and it was his confidence, coupled with the sight of Dam cowering behind the shield, that gave Ginny courage.

"What's your name?" she asked. She knew to ask that much, at least.

"Nadia Bellows," said the witch. She seemed rather resigned to having been caught. The name stirred Ginny's memory.

"Are you related to Katerina Bellows?" she asked. Next to her, she felt Harry start. "Shit," he muttered. "She's got a sister?"

"My sister, yes," said Nadia. She puffed out her chest so all the words on her t-shirt were visible. "Founder and President of the Harry Potter Official Arrows Fan Club. I'm Vice President."

Ginny ignored the grandstanding; she was trying to figure out what to ask next. _Why? _or _How?_

She decided to ask the easier question first. "What were you doing, trying to get into the building? You must know it's heavily warded."

Nadia shrugged. "Just a dare," she said with exaggerated casualness. Ginny didn't believe her for a second; nevertheless, she nodded. "A dare to what?"

"Why, get to see Harry Potter, of course. And it looks like I won, didn't I? Even if I didn't make it all the way in. Almost though." Nadia was almost flippant in her answers. She didn't seem at all concerned at having been caught, by the Aurors, no less. She even seemed to be sidling closer to where Harry stood while she answered questions, a suggestive smile on her face.

Ginny quite determinedly moved herself to stand between Harry and the witch. Behind her, she thought she heard him chuckle softly, but she ignored it. "And how did you actually plan to get inside? Who helped you?"

Nadia pointed to the white bag. "We did our research," she said. "That really is a beef and cheddar sandwich. Another minute, and you'd have called your brother down to get it, and I would have gotten in." She cocked her head at Ginny. "How'd you know I wasn't really a delivery boy?"

"You may have figured out Ron's favorite order, but you failed to realize he's not alone," said Ginny. "You should have been delivering two sandwiches, although that would have been suspicious too. I very much doubt my brother and his girlfriend are thinking at all about eating dinner right now."

This time, Ginny was sure she heard Harry groan, and she stifled a grin. She almost turned around to invite him to come to her own flat instead of going home, when Camilla cleared her throat.

"An admirable job, Miss Weasley. I think we'll take it from here though. And we want to get the wards checked. The guest system seemed to do a good job of preventing Miss Bellows from contacting Ron, but it should have ejected her from the vestibule after three failed attempts. I'm not sure how many times she tried to enter, or if Miss Weasley's arrival stopped the ward from triggering." She turned to Bramley. "Get Bill Weasley here tomorrow, will you? We can't risk someone getting in."

Again, Ginny wondered at the seriousness with with the Aurors were taking a near-miss with a fan-witch, but then her attention was turned towards the shield that still stretched across the lobby. Dam's face was still visible behind it. He and the other Arrows had gotten up from the floor, but none of them looked particularly comfortable. She looked at Harry. "Can you let them out?"

Harry nodded. "Probably going to earn me another hazing night in retaliation for trapping them all," he said. He took off the spell, but to Ginny's surprise, no one seemed relieved to be free. Indeed, Dam took another step backward when Camilla walked by him to bind Nadia in a silvery rope. He looked at Ginny, and she thought his expression was something between awe and fear. She gave him a teasing smirk. "Pub tonight, Dam? Looks like you need it."

"Hell yeah, I do," said Dam. How did you . . . I mean, I couldn't have . . . I mean, I wouldn't have wanted to . . . you know, capture someone." He gave a nervous laugh. I guess that's why you're the Auror and I play Quidditch, right?" He looked at Harry. "And you're both, aren't you?"

Ginny watched as Harry's expression closed. "Just an Arrow, just like you," he said. "I just remembered a thing or two from before."

"It was more than that and you know it, Harry." Camilla's voice had a hard edge, quite different from when she had spoken to Ginny. "You miss it, don't you?"

Ginny felt Harry stiffen beside her. "Not at all, Camilla," he said formally. "I've found that I'm much more suited to professional Quidditch than the Auror corps."

"Well, seeing as you were one of Miss Weasley's first instructors on fighting Dark magic, I should think you are at least a bit proud at her work here tonight, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "Ginny was brilliant, I wouldn't have expected anything less," he said, and Ginny felt an odd surge of pride. Which was stupid, of course. The entire conversation between Harry and the Aurors was stilted and falsely polite; Ginny doubted there had been a single honest word between them. Still, it was good to think that her talk with Harry hadn't been a fluke, or that he'd been friendlier to her because of her hangover. At one point, she might have even wondered if Harry had just wanted to find out what happened between her and Dam so that he could file away the information for teasing later. She glanced over to the edge of the lobby where Dam was still watching cautiously. Ginny was pretty sure Harry didn't care at all that she'd kissed him (and a little more, but no one needed to know that; it hadn't been that much). He also didn't seem to have told Ron or any of her other brothers, for which Ginny was extremely grateful. If Harry at least would refrain from taking the mickey about her and his quidditch captain, she had no doubt that her brothers would want to do so at every opportunity, if they knew.

But any residual attraction Ginny had felt towards Dam after Harry had confirmed her suspicions had evaporated today. She could admire his quidditch skills and even his abs, and joke and tease and be his neighbor, but she could never be any more interested than that. It wasn't the showing fear; Ginny understood better than most that anyone who denied being scared sometimes was a liar. And she would never belittle someone - even someone like Dam - for letting that fear keep them frozen and out of the fight. He'd be one to run every time, Ginny was sure. And that was fine, but it meant that the kiss she and Dam had shared would be their last.

She gave a small sigh. It wasn't that she'd thought anything might have developed between them, but damn, it wasn't like the blokes were beating down her door or anything. Before starting training, she'd wondered idly if there would be anyone interesting at work, a curiosity that had been quite completely extinguished as soon as she'd met her class. And "fraternization between trainee and Auror" was completely forbidden, not that Ginny had her eye on anyone older either. So it would be many nights alone, just as it usually was these days. That was fine. She needed to focus on work anyway. For there was no doubt in Ginny's mind that something more was going on than mere training of a new class of Aurors. And she was equally sure that whatever that more might be involved Harry. It probably also involved . . .

"Miss Weasley?" by the slightly annoyed tone of Bramley Rhodes' voice, she suspected she might have missed his first attempts to get her attention. She pulled herself back to the situation at hand. "Yes?" she asked.

"I asked if you could come in an hour early on Monday for a debriefing on this matter. There's no reason for you to lose your entire weekend over it."

Ginny frowned. "Are you sure? I mean, I'm happy to come speak to you tomorrow, while it's still fresh in my mind. Tonight even." She didn't know a lot, but she knew that normal Auror procedure was to capture impressions and memories of a capture as soon as possible.

She saw Bramley and Camilla exchange a glance. "You're right, of course, Ginny," said Camilla after a moment. Ginny wondered at the sudden use of her first name. "But in this case for so minor an event, the formal debriefing can wait. Do you have access to a Pensieve? You can pull out your memories and observe them there if you want, and then bring in the vial on Monday."

"I have one," said Harry quickly, and Ginny remembered seeing the dull metal bowl in Harry's room when she'd been spying. "I'll help her use it." He turned to her. "I mean, if you want me to. I'm sure you know how to remove memories yourself, don't you? So you wouldn't need me."

Ginny nodded, and then a second later shook her head. "I do know how, I think," she said. "But I've never used a Pensieve on myself. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to help me."

Harry grinned. "Well, if you're sure you don't mind, then I guess I have no choice." He sounded a lot more relaxed than when he'd been talking to the Aurors. In fact, he barely looked back at them to say goodbye as Camilla and Bramley finished securing the area and preparing to Apparate away with Nadia. Ginny wondered for a moment if they meant to keep the witch somewhere over the weekend, and then found she really didn't care. With a final promise to come into work early on Monday, Ginny watched her superiors turn on the spot in a single fluid motion with their prisoner between them, and then let out a relieved breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Well, that wasn't how I expected tonight to go." Ginny turned, expecting to see Harry still next to her, and was surprised to find him across the lobby, talking to Dam and the rest of the team. She hadn't even heard him move away. Dam was shaking his head and twice Ginny saw him glance at her. The second time, he saw her catch him and gave her a big smile.

"Remind me to have you around whenever the team runs into Dark magic," he said. "That was seriously awesome."

Ginny shrugged. "It wasn't really . . ." she began, then bit back her words. Dam didn't seem at all upset about his behavior, but it would still be rather tactless for Ginny to point out that the fan-witch hadn't actually been practicing anything dark. "Thanks," she said instead. She looked at Harry. "Weren't you all planning to go out and celebrate your win? I can imagine that everyone needs a drink more than ever now."

"Hell yeah, we do," said Kipling. "Wimbourne was a beast, even before we had to contend with crazy fans." He looked at Ginny. "Why don't you come with us?"

"Actually, I think Ginny and I will meet you there," broke in Harry. "She needs to capture her memories as soon as possible, while they're still fresh in her mind." He gave her a pointed look.

Ginny understood immediately. "That's right, I should," she said. "Actually, it's Auror procedure." She gave Dam a friendly smile. "Save us a flaming whiskey shot or two, will you?"

"I make no promises," said Dam. He seemed to have recovered his sense of humor, at least. He held out his arms. "Meet back here in ten minutes, everyone. First one to go home has to clean our uniforms by hand next week. No magic."

Everyone laughed good naturally and moved to the lifts. Ginny started to follow them until she realized Harry was waiting behind. Only after the rest of his team was gone did Harry speak again.

"I can help you retrieve your memories and put them in a vial without actually having to get the Pensieve," he said. He smirked. "Unless you want to be the one to check and see if your brother forgot the silencing charms again."

"My flat it is, then," said Ginny quickly. She smirked back. "And who gets to be the one to tell him he missed out on his favorite sandwich?"

"Hopefully the sex is enough of a distraction," laughed Harry.

"Hah," said Ginny back. "With my brother, I'm not so sure." They walked companionably to the open lift. Only when the doors were closed did Ginny ask Harry what she'd been waiting to. "Was it just me, or is there something else going on here?"

Harry didn't answer, just gave a small shake of his head. _Not yet._

Ginny nodded back. "So what pub do you think the team is going to tonight?" she asked. "I think I can do without those rainbow drinks again."

"I think the Rose and Ashes," it's much more of a dive," said Harry. "But the drinks are cheap and strong."

They arrived at Ginny's flat, and she was completely unsurprised when Harry began adding extra wards as soon as the door closed behind them. He said two spells and nodded in satisfaction when nothing happened.

"No one's listening in," he said. "And yes, I'm going to teach you everything I just did. Just don't tell them at training about it."

"Why?" asked Ginny. "Aren't we going to learn them anyway?"

"Not exactly the ones I just did, and you aren't learning anything from me anyway, okay? Nothing related to the Aurors at least." Harry gave her a pointed look.

"Are you going to tell me why at least? Because I'm getting the feeling you aren't telling me everything." Ginny plopped down on her couch and summoned two butter beers from her icebox. After a second, Harry sat down next to her. He sighed and ruffled his hand through his hair.

"I'm not," Harry admitted.

Ginny looked at him in surprise. "I would have expected you to deny it."

Harry shrugged. "Now that would be really unfair," he said. "Yes, I'm keeping things from you - I haven't told Ron all of it either, by the way - but the least I can do is tell you why."

Ginny shifted on the sofa and curled her feet under her. "Okay, so why?"

Harry took a sip of his butterbeer. "I think the Aurors need you. And Ron and the others," he said. "I don't want what happened with me to influence you or how you do your work there. It's over and done with, you heard what Camilla Stalk said; they've changed."

"I heard her say what she wanted you and me to hear, yes," said Ginny. "Did you believe her?"

"I trust Kingsley," said Harry, rather incongruously. "And I trust you."

"I trust you too," said Ginny. It was true, too. She really didn't need to know more right now. Actually, given the Aurors' apparent proclivity towards Legilimency, it was probably better that she not know too much. She poked Harry's leg with her toe. "But if there's something I need to know, you'll tell me, right?"

Harry nodded immediately. "Of course. And if something happens that you don't think is . . . proper Auror procedure," you'll let me know."

"I will," agreed Ginny. She frowned. "Like the fact that the Aurors sent two of their senior people to a simple crazed fan situation? Do you know why?"

Harry grimaced. "Probably to remind me they want me back," he said. "You heard Camilla."

Ginny nodded; it made sense. "They should know better by now" she said.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think they'll give up that easily." He gave her a careful look. "And don't be surprised if they use tonight to try to influence you."

"Yeah, I figured that much out," said Ginny. "They're not going to give up, are they? Trying to use me to get to you?"

"Probably not," said Harry. "But you obviously can take care of yourself on that front. You were seriously amazing tonight too. Especially figuring out the single sandwich. Thats the kind of clue I miss."

Ginny snorted. "What I didn't tell them is that Ron would usually order two sandwiches even if Hermione wasn't there. I was certain something was up immediately." She sighed. "Talk about not giving up though. Those fan-witches aren't going to stop trying to get to you, are they?"

Harry shook his head. "I keep hoping that once the newness of me being on the team wears off, they'll ease up. I even considered trying to be extra friendly to them, you know? Take away the mystery. Unfortunately, I decided to try on my hazing night. And you saw how that turned out." He flopped back against the sofa. "I can't believe she has a sister." He looked at Ginny. "You'll let me know if you hear anything won't you? At the Aurors?"

Harry sounded unaccountably vulnerable, and Ginny suspected that tonight's events had shaken him more than he cared to admit. She nodded. "Of course. Or if I hear anything directly from them. They tend to like to brag to me for some reason."

"They're jealous," said Harry. "That you and I are . . . well, whatever we are. Now."

Ginny grinned. "Yeah, I wonder what they would have thought if they'd known that until a couple of weeks ago, you mostly irritated the hell out of me. Maybe they'd have asked me to join their club." She pretended to think. "I would have liked a t-shirt at least."

Harry kicked her. "Prat," he said. "And I don't think I always irritated you, did I? I thought we established that it was a lot of misunderstanding."

"It was, that's right," nodded Ginny. "And now it's done."

Harry nodded. "Good," he said.

"Although . . . " said Ginny. "I think we still have one more misunderstanding to clear up." She kept her voice deliberately light.

Harry sat up anyway and gave her a wary look. "And what misunderstanding is that?"

"Well, maybe misunderstanding is the wrong word," Ginny allowed. "More like . . . unfinished business." She gave Harry a pointed look. "You still owe me an answer to my question from last time."

Harry didn't even try to play dumb that he didn't remember. "I knew you wouldn't let that drop."

Ginny shrugged. "Fair's fair," she said. "You know about me." And although she'd never admit it, she was more than a little curious. She'd learned a lot about Harry in the past months, and she had the feeling she'd just begun to scratch the surface. This was just one little thing, and probably one of the easier things to get him to admit, actually. His real secrets would be much more difficult. "If we're going to be proper friends, I think you owe it to me," she said lightly.

"Friends, huh? Is that what we are?" Harry's voice had a touch of something in it - curiosity maybe. Ginny nodded firmly.

"Well yes, of course we are," she said. "I think we actually were before too, you know? Before we talked? We just didn't realize it then."

"And now we realize it. Right," said Harry. He sighed. "Okay."

"Okay? Okay what?" Ginny could tell that it was actually harder for Harry to talk about than she'd suspected, and she considered backing off. Despite the fact that she'd never hesitated to ask any of her brothers the same question, her fledgling friendship with Harry was different. "It's okay, you don't need to tell me," she said quickly. "Really, it's not my business."

"I don't mind," said Harry quietly. "It's just not something I've told many people. Your brother's one of the only ones. And Hermione, but only because he told her." He shrugged. "I haven't yet, which probably makes me the only virgin in the entire English Quidditch League. Possibly Ireland too." He looked at her. "So there you go."

By the look on his face, Ginny knew Harry half expected her to tease him. That was the furthest thing from her mind though, and she spoke almost without thinking. "Good," she said.

Harry gave her a quizzical look. "It's good that I've never had sex?"

Ginny shrugged. "I've never had sex either. It's not something to do just casually, you know? At least, not for me."

"Not for me either," Harry agreed. "Otherwise my status would have changed on my hazing night."

"And the poster in your flat would have changed too, said Ginny with a grin.

Harry groaned. "You saw that? I can't take it down until Dam lets me. Which in my case I think is going to be a while." He sighed. "He's taken it as a personal challenge to find me a witch."

"He doesn't see the difference between sex and love," said Ginny.

Harry nodded. "I know. And he'd 'love' for me to find someone to have sex with. Sees it as his duty as my captain. He thinks a healthy sex life makes us all play better."

"You already play better," said Ginny. "I can't imagine you have much room to improve."

For some reason, Harry flushed. "Thanks," he said. "But there's always room to get better."

"Maybe," said Ginny. "But you don't need to be having sex to do it."

Harry sighed. "I guess not." He sat up. "Are you hungry? I haven't eaten since before our match."

Ginny realized she hadn't eaten since lunch; she was starving, and she had no idea what had happened to the supper she'd bought. "I'd like to get something to eat," she said.

Harry stood up. "Shall we go out? Unless you have some of your mum's leftovers here?" He sounded so hopefully Ginny had to laugh.

"I'm rather low right now," she said. I think we need to get some take-away or something." She grinned. "Just not sandwiches, okay?" She took Harry's proffered hand and let him pull her off the sofa.

"Deal," he said.


	10. Reversing Memories

A/N: Sometimes, I'll start out a chapter with a good idea, write the first bit, and things will kind of go off the rails further in. This chapter felt like kind of the opposite. I started the chapter in a completely different way, realized it wasn't working, and then had to rework it. I wasn't thrilled with some of my choices, but I got some good encouragement along the way, and the more I wrote, the more I felt better back on track. You know who you are, so thank you. The scene you want is coming, I promise! I'm sorry it's taken so long, and for those few of you who are reading both this and Servant of Death, I'm well along on the next chapter of that too.

Ginny didn't question Harry when he led her to the back exit of their building; she knew she didn't have to. She doubted he had any more desire than she did to see anyone in the crowd of people still loitering around the front walk. News had traveled quickly, and Ginny was grateful they'd been able to hear the commotion when the rest of the Arrows had left for the pub. She and Harry had peered carefully out her window and she wasn't sure which of them had been more horrified at the number of press there. She was only glad she'd finished collecting her memories first, and carefully stored them in her work bag, to be delivered, she supposed, to Gawain Robards himself on Monday.

Harry was looking tentatively at her, and Ginny wondered if he even wanted to go out to dinner at that point. But then he mumbled something rather incoherent about grabbing a bite, and she'd followed him immediately out the door of her flat.

"They're going to be at the Ministry, aren't they?" she asked suddenly. She knew she didn't have to explain where her thoughts had gone.

Harry nodded. "Probably, but they won't be able to get upstairs to the Aurors. Gawain will see to that." He ran his hand through his hair. "At least, I think he'll see to that." He had an odd look on his face when he spoke of his former boss, and Ginny looked quickly at him. But a second later, Harry's face was carefully blank. He knocked his hip against Ginny's. "You could always hex them."

Ginny groaned. "Don't tempt me. I don't know that the Aurors will be as charitable a second time. Did you know I didn't even get a reprimand?"

"I believe it," said Harry. "You'd probably have to banish Robards' clothes in the middle of a staff meeting and then make the bats fly out of his arse before you'd get in trouble. And maybe not even then."

Ginny gave him a sharp look. "Do you really think . . ." she began. Then she stopped and shook her head. "Actually, I don't think I want to know."

And she didn't want to know, she was pretty sure. It was wrong, probably; one of the things that had already been drilled into them in training was the importance of gathering as much information as possible. According to many of their instructors, Better Aurors Than Themselves had been hurt – or worse – because they'd made hasty decisions based on less than all facts available. Still, Ginny doubted that her disinclination to know exactly what her reputation was to her bosses was the kind of knowledge that could get her into serious trouble. She wasn't sure why she didn't want to know what they had planned for her, and in the back of her mind was the idea that in this case, ignorance would force the Aurors to treat her the same as all the other trainees. Asking too many questions would make her look interested in what they wanted, and having too many answers would change the way she acted and reacted. Better to stay in the dark.

Harry nodded immediately. "I wouldn't either," he said. "Answering all those questions is exhausting, even if you are best friends – or even roommates – with the questioner."

"Ron bugs you about it?" Suddenly, her brother's knowledge of Harry's activities and reasons this past year took on a new flavor. _Stupid of her to have been jealous. _

Harry nodded. "And Hermione," he said. "I know they mean well, and it's been useful a bunch of times having Ron's eyes on the Aurors, but . . . sometimes I appreciate not having to think about it or explain it or anything. Being with . . . someone who doesn't ask me a million questions is a relief." His mouth twisted for a second as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

Ginny was pretty sure Harry was talking about her, and her decision not to try to learn more made even more sense. Surely there would be no way to ask Harry about her own experience with the Aurors without touching on his, and he clearly did not want to talk about it. Her stomach suddenly gurgled and he smiled.

There's a Muggle pub I like; we definitely won't be recognized. I can take you side along."

Ginny put her hand on his elbow. "Lead the way," she said.

HPHPHPHP

_Kerfuffle At Incantation Court_

_The Arsenal Arrows had more excitement than expected after returning home from their thrilling win against Wimbourne Friday evening. Knowledgable sources report that Aurors were called to diffuse an attempted break-in at Incantation Court, the posh residential building that is famously home to the entire Arrows Quidditch team, and most notably, star Seeker Harry Potter. But was there really ever any danger, or just an overreaction caused by the interference of building resident and Auror trainee, Ginny Weasley?_

"_It was all in good fun, or would have been, if that witch Ginny Weasley had stayed out of it," said witness Katerina Bellows. "My sister and I are intimately familiar with the safety wards on the building. We just wanted to make sure they were still operating properly, you know, as a service to the Arrows. But then Weasley had __to jump in and show off, waving her wand around even though it was painfully obvious she had no idea what she was doing. Good thing for my sister the real Aurors showed up, or Nadia could have been really hurt."_

"_Nadia" refers to Nadia Bellows, the individual the Prophet has confirmed was trapped in a number of different wards inside Incantation Court's front lobby. According to several sources, these wards included not only the building's ordinary security, but also a number of highly dangerous spells cast by Miss Weasley herself. Given that the building's wards were originally cast by Miss Weasley's brother and Gringott's curse breaker Bill Weasley, one has to wonder if the young Auror trainee has some inside knowledge that maybe her brother's skills were not up to scratch. _

_The Aurors have refused to confirm whether Bill Weasley's wards failed or what spells Miss Weasley used, other than to state that "proper procedure was followed." Rumors that Harry Potter himself was spotted sorting out the mess Miss Weasley created and protecting his teammates from further damage have not been corroborated. Could he be regretting his decision to leave the Aurors in favor of a life of professional Quidditch? His numerous fans, enjoying the sight of their team atop the standings, certainly hope not._

Ginny slammed down the paper and groaned. Another article written by the anonymous "Prophet Staff" – and she was sure the lack of author was not an accident. Whoever was behind the story was a clever writer, Ginny had to give them that. In just a few short paragraphs they'd managed to cast suspicion not only about her, but also Bill, Harry and the entire Auror corps, all while making the actual perpetrators sound like the real victims. It was beyond infuriating, Ginny thought. Despite the accolades Bramley and Camilla had heaped on her yesterday, she strongly suspected that ending up in the paper twice in as many months would not sit well with her superiors. For all she knew, her meeting with them Monday morning was for the specific purpose of reminding her that she really needed to control her impulses, and that the "proper procedure" mentioned in the paper was actually for her to have immediately called for backup.

She hadn't quite realized her fuming had led her out of her flat and down the hall until she'd already knocked on the door. Harry opened it almost immediately; he was also holding a copy of the paper, and Ginny had the feeling he'd been about to come show it to her. Instead, he silently stepped back and let her enter, closing the door firmly behind her and setting the same spells he'd showed her the night before.

"Coffee?" he asked as she flopped onto the sofa. "Ron made it."

"Thanks," muttered Ginny. Ron was surprisingly good at making coffee – the Muggle way – using a coffee pot he and their dad had restored. It wasn't a misuse of Muggle artifacts, Arthur assured them, because Ron was using the coffee pot in the manner originally intended. Ginny didn't really care, she was just glad Ron brought her a thermos of it almost every morning.

She watched as Harry silently added a shot of Firewhiskey to her mug and sighed in appreciation at the first sip. She looked around. "Where _is_ Ron?"

Harry grimaced. "He and Hermione are in the shower, and you're to welcome my own silencing charms for the fact you didn't know that." He took a sip of his own coffee, and by the amount of steam floating around his ears, Ginny suspected Harry's mug contained more than a single shot of alcohol. "He was livid about the article," he continued. "Wanted to Floo down to the Prophet immediately and demand a retraction. Fortunately, Hermione managed a distraction."

Ginny snorted. "So that's what they're calling it now?" She leaned back. "As long as he knows he can't take on the Prophet. They've already written about two Weasleys; the last thing any of us need is an article suggesting our entire family is unstable."

"Not in public at least," said Harry with a grin. Then he frowned. "Someone at the Prophet certainly has it in for you, don't they? I should have warned you that it's a consequence of associating with me."

"I'll take my chances," said Ginny. "I just hope it doesn't affect anything at training."

"It won't," said Harry, so forcefully that Ginny almost heard an unspoken _not if I have anything to say about it. _She looked carefully at him. "You sound quite sure."

"I am," said Harry. He sounded a little less vehement, but slightly embarrassed. Ginny waited.

"Well first off, you didn't do anything wrong. You caught someone trying to break into the building, and you stopped them. Quite brilliantly, I may add."

Ginny shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Not to you, maybe," said Harry, "but, consider how my teammates acted. Most people wouldn't have known what to do as quickly as you did."

"I _am_ learning to be an Auror," said Ginny, with a trace of bemusement. "And a poor one I'd be if I couldn't stop a petty criminal in her tracks."

"But you could have done the same thing two or three years ago," said Harry. "Ron too, and the other DA members, probably." He chuckled. "Despite what Bramley said to the Prophet, _proper procedure _at this point in your training would have been a simple stunning spell and then a Patronus call for help. Your way was much more effective – and unexpected."

"I was about to send my Patronus," Ginny admitted. "But then Bramley and Camilla showed up on their own."

"Yeah, well, that's the second part of it," said Harry. He looked embarrassed again. "I had suspected, but I wasn't sure until yesterday." He ran his hand through his hair. "Apparently, when I moved into my flat, the Aurors had the wards strengthened to include an automatic call to them if certain spells were cast in or around the building. Your containment spell triggered that ward."

Ginny thought about this for a minute, warring with herself about whether to ask. "They still think you're that important, don't they?" she asked quietly. "That you need such strong protection?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "But more likely, they want to know if I'm doing higher magic. They'll take any sign they can get to think I want to come back."

"Camilla accused you of missing it," Ginny remembered. No matter how determined she was not to ask Harry too many questions, it always seemed to come back around to the Aurors. She looked carefully at Harry. "Do you? I mean," she added hastily, "you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Sorry."

Harry shrugged in understanding. "I miss the . . . idea of it. Sometimes," he said, and Ginny could tell how difficult it was for him to admit. "What I thought the Aurors would be like before . . . I mean, back when I was in school." He shook his head. "I should have known better that it wouldn't be like that. For me at least. Too soon, too much baggage." He gave Ginny a soft smile. "I think it's going to be different for you."

Ginny wasn't sure what Harry meant about _too soon_; did he mean he'd joined the Aurors too young? Ginny didn't think that was it; she was the same age now as he'd been. And truly, Harry hadn't even been a formal part of the program when he left for the Arrows. He'd quit before he was really hired, and if he'd stayed, Ginny realized suddenly, he would have been in the same training class as she and Ron were. She had never really thought of that before; what would that have been like? Would she and Harry have had the chance to work out their differences, or would his presence have solidified Ginny's petty jealousy at being left out once again?

For the first time, Ginny considered that Harry not joining the Aurors had been a good thing, at least as far as her relationship with him went. If she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that if she was working with him every day, it would have been much more difficult, if not impossible, to become his friend.

_But what would Robards have done, if he'd had both Harry and Ginny in the Aurors at the same time? _

She frowned, thinking. Weeks ago, Robards had tried to suggest that Harry was equivalent to her entire training class. She hadn't quite believed it then, but she couldn't deny that the Aurors' interest in Harry – while not quite obsessive, was rather heavy-handed. And now, it seemed that she had somehow become an object of interest herself.

_So much for blissful ignorance. _

"You say that 'you think' it's going to be different for me, but you aren't sure, are you? I mean, it was pretty obvious that Bramley and Camilla have something in mind for me, something different than the other trainees. Is it just the Chamber again? Or something else?" She gave Harry a silent apology for dredging up the issue again.

He gave her another soft smile, and Ginny had the feeling he knew exactly how much she wished she didn't have to ask.

"Quidditch is easier to talk about," he murmured, and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Much," she said. "But . . ."

"I know," said Harry quickly. He closed his eyes for a second, as if marshaling his thoughts.

"I think it's the Chamber," he said finally. "They aren't ready to give up on the idea that being possessed gives the two of us some special connection and insight that will be useful to fight Dark Magic. And everything you've done since joining the Aurors – hexing that reporter, stopping Nadia, and just generally killing it at training – only reiterates their belief."

Harry spoke frankly about being possessed, and Ginny found it comforting, as if he were merely remarking on the fact that they had both had the same meal for breakfast. It was a far cry from their fight at Grimmauld Place her Fourth Year, but Ginny didn't say so. They'd both already apologized for their misunderstandings and behavior then, and there was no need to go over it again.

She sighed. She still hadn't given her 'talk' to the other trainees about her experience, and it occurred to her she was going to be careful about what she said. If Robards and the others were looking for evidence that her experience had given her some special power over dark magic, they'd probably be analyzing every word she said. Which meant she probably needed to ask Harry what kind of topics she should avoid. If he knew.

"We should probably get Ron in on this," she said finally. She glanced back at the hallway. Harry's charm must have been really strong; Ginny had no idea if her brother and Hermione were still in the shower or had finished and gone back to Ron's bedroom. And while she didn't really want to find out, Ron knew things about the Chamber that Harry didn't. She said as much, and Harry gave her an odd look.

"They're back in Ron's room," he said slowly. He pointed at a soft blue glow Ginny hadn't noticed, hovering around the hallway that led to the back of the flat. "I added wards to let me know when it's safe to use the loo."

"Smart," said Ginny. "So, do you think we can ask him to come out and talk? I have a feeling I'm going to be asked to talk about what happened my first year pretty soon."

Harry was quiet for so long that Ginny thought at first he hadn't heard her. She put her hand on his arm. "Harry?"

He shook himself as if coming out of far away thoughts. "We don't need to get Ron," he said quietly. "I can tell you everything you need to know."

"I don't understand," said Ginny. Nevertheless, she got up when Harry did and followed him down the hallway.

"I know," said Harry. He looked at her. "Just so you know, Ron's been wanting me to tell you for a while now. And he's been more insistent since you said you were joining the Aurors. Maybe a little before that. It's not his fault."

"What's not his fault?" They were in Harry's room now, and he shut his door and started warding it with spells that Ginny suspected were at least as strong as whatever he'd done for Ron and Hermione. Harry's face was in a tight line. Not angry, exactly, but maybe stressed, if Ginny had to put a name to it. She really didn't know most of Harry's expressions that well, but she knew something was off. She asked again.

"What's not his fault? The Chamber wasn't anyone's fault, except Tom Riddle's."

Harry glanced at her, his mouth relaxing slightly. "How long did it take you to be able to say that?" he asked gently. He gestured Ginny to sit down on the bed, while he walked over to his window.

"A long time," Ginny admitted. "And sometimes I still . . . well, sometimes I don't remember as well as others."

Harry nodded. "I feel the same way about Sirius," he said. He left it at that, and Ginny felt a surge of understanding.

"It gets tiring, doesn't it? Hearing how many times that something _wasn't your fault?" _she asked. "I mean, I know it really wasn't, but . . ."

"But sometimes hearing someone else try to tell you how much you shouldn't feel blame just has the opposite effect," he finished.

"Because it means they're still thinking about it too," said Ginny, watching Harry give a quick nod. "If they really weren't thinking it was your fault, it wouldn't even be in their mind to say anything."

"Exactly," said Harry. The bed shifted, and Ginny realized that Harry had brought over his Pensieve and a vial of memories. "But this – what I'm going to show you – is different. It's . . . well, I hope it's not upsetting. Or, too upsetting. It's the Chamber, so I know it won't be fun to look at, of course." Harry spoke in a rush, as if more than eager to get all the words out.

Ginny frowned. "The Chamber?" she asked, gently touching the crystal bottle. "Are these Ron's memories?" She'd never really wanted to know too much about what had happened during the time she was unconscious. By the time she'd woken up, Harry had made it there too, and there was blood everywhere, on the dead Basilisk and all three of them, and Fawkes was about to about to pull them back up the tunnel. She had answered Dumbledore's questions about what she'd been doing all year with the diary and then what Riddle had said to her when he finally came out of it, and then she'd clammed up, refusing to look any further in the dusky memories and thoughts that went further than that. Ron had been nicer to her all summer and the rest of the family had fawned all over him until their dad had won the Ministry's draw and they'd all gone to visit Bill in Egypt. By the start of school, things were mostly back to normal and they'd all met up with Harry at the Leaky Cauldron and he and Ron had ignored her again.

Ginny rubbed her hand over her face. "I knew, when I joined the Aurors, that I'd have to talk about the Chamber again," she said. "I figured that it was so long ago, it wouldn't be a big deal." She sighed. "It's weirder to think about again than I thought it would be."

"And about to get . . . I don't know if weird is the right word," said Harry quietly. He tipped the vial into the basin. "But it's going to be unexpected. I thought it was the right thing, at the time." He grabbed her hand. "Promise me something?"

Ginny was still confused, but the look in Harry's eyes was earnest. She nodded. "Of course."

Harry took a deep breath. "Promise me that, when you find out what . . . you're going to find out, that you'll listen to my reasons, and not get mad? I was really young," he said, and his voice was a little pleading.

Ginny put her hand on Harry's arm. "Is it really bad?" she asked. Crazy thoughts, probably fueled by all the wild rumors she'd heard over the years, flew through her head. _They'd said Harry was the true heir of Slytherin. He could talk to snakes because he was part snake. He and Tom Riddle had done . . . things together. Things no one could know. _

That last story had been so ridiculous that Ginny would have hexed the witch who shared it if Bill hadn't been with her in Diagon Alley and done it himself. Harry was shaking his head as if he knew what she was thinking.

"No," he said. "Nothing like that. It's more . . ." he stopped, looking uncomfortable. "Just, don't be mad, at least, not right away, okay? I promise, there was a good reason."

"Okay, I promise," said Ginny. She still had no idea what Harry was talking about, had something happened with him and Lockhart while they were trapped in the tunnel? What would that have to do with her? Listening to him worry about it wasn't making anything clearer. She bent her head towards the bowl. "Are you coming with me?"

"Do you want me to? Maybe it's not a good idea if I'm there." Ginny couldn't tell from Harry's voice what he really wanted to do. She grabbed his hand.

"I don't think I want to see it alone," she said.

Harry nodded jerkily. "Okay then," he said. They both leaned towards the bowl.

HPHPHPHPHP

When they emerged, Ginny's confusion was mixed with the horror she'd felt seeing the Chamber again. She shook her head.

"I . . . I don't remember, I mean, I _didn't _remember. I thought . . . I only remembered Fawkes and the tunnel." She didn't think she was making total sense, but she knew it didn't matter. Harry nodded.

"You actually woke up as soon as I stabbed the diary," he said quietly. He swallowed. "The Basilisk had already bitten me, and you said . . ."

"I said I was so sorry, and that I didn't know what to do," she said. Even before she'd heard herself say those words in the Pensieve, Ginny had begun to remember. "I said it was all my fault that Riddle had hurt you." She frowned. "But . . . wasn't it Ron? Why didn't I remember that it . . . it was you?" She had been shocked when she finally understood what she was seeing, that it had been Ron trapped behind the rock wall and Harry talking to Tom Riddle and battling the serpent and finally saving her life by killing the soul bit in the diary. Ginny had watched herself wake up and suddenly recalled talking to Harry as he gasped and panted through the pain of the poison traveling up his arm. And then Fawkes had come and what Ginny watched converged with what she'd always thought was true.

"Why did you tell me it was Ron?" she asked. For she remembered that clearly. Sitting in Dumbledore's office, trying to explain through hysterical tears just what she'd been doing all year, facing her family's shock and disappointment, Ginny remembered vividly that Harry had told them how he'd been trapped with Lockhart while Ron had made it through to the Chamber to save his little sister. It was the stuff of family legend, so engrained in everyone's mind that it had caused Ginny to forget that she knew the truth. And now, Harry was saying it hadn't happened? She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "It's not Ron's fault," he said. "He wanted to tell you earlier."

Ginny nodded with a touch of impatience. "You said that already." Harry was rocking a bit, sitting on the bed_, _and Ginny suddenly remembered more.

"Percy yelled at Ron, didn't he? About not watching out for me. And Bill was there, and he said he was disappointed in both of us." She looked directly at Harry. "And so you . . .?"

Harry nodded. "I told everyone that Ron was the one who saved you." He shrugged. "It didn't really matter to me."

Unspoken, Ginny knew, was that being named the hero would really have mattered to Ron. At one time, she would have thought it selfish of him, accepting praise and glory for something he didn't do. But she knew her brother a lot better now. "He never made that big of a deal about it, after that first summer," she said.

Harry nodded. "It was an impulsive decision on my part," he said. "I was happy to let Ron take the credit; it didn't occur to me that it would be harder for him." Harry shrugged. "At first, he mostly dealt with it by trying to never talk about it. But when we were on the Horcrux hunt, after he . . . well, after he got the Sword of Gryffindor and destroyed the locket, he wanted to tell you the truth. And your family. I told him he didn't need to, that we could just let it go, but he's been getting more insistent."

Ginny could see all of this. The same impulse that had recently led Harry to give Ron free board in his flat, and do his own laundry, and not care about the attention he got as the destroyer of Voldemort or from being an Arrow, had caused him, at twelve years old, to give Ron more credit for her rescue. It had deflected blame away from Ron, and deflected attention away from Harry. It was not surprising at all.

"Ron didn't . . . it was sometimes hard for him. Being the youngest boy," said Harry, and another piece fell into place for Ginny.

"It wasn't just because they were blaming him then. Why you said he rescued me." _Of course._

Harry shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn't really understand families." He twisted a bit of blanket. "Are you mad?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not at all." She put her hand on Harry's chin and lifted it to look right at him. He shivered a bit. "I'm not going to hex you," she said, amused.

"I know. It's not . . . I mean, it's just . . . I know," he stuttered. Ginny chuckled. "Then let me talk."

Harry nodded.

"I'm not mad, not at all," said Ginny. "Or annoyed, or irritated, or jealous that Ron knew, or whatever I might have felt or thought at one time. I get it." She grimaced. "And I have to be quite an arse to still be upset about a decision you made so long ago."

"I could have told you earlier," Harry said.

"True," said Ginny. "And I probably wouldn't have bothered to listen and understand, and yeah, I might have hexed you instead. I get why you waited."

Harry let out a breath. "Okay then," he said. "Okay. Ron will be relieved. We still have to tell your family, but hopefully they'll understand."

"I'll make sure they do," said Ginny. She grabbed her wand and rolled it in her hands with what she hoped was a menacing manner.

Harry barked a laugh. "That look might work on the fan-witches but I'm not so sure your family is going to be intimidated." He sighed. "We'll figure it out."

Ginny nodded. Almost involuntarily, she looked over to the window sill, where several crystal vials still sat.

Harry followed her gaze. "I'm pants at Occlumency. There are things I don't want people to be able to find out from me. Things from . . . before."

Ginny nodded. "Are they . . .?" she began. She stopped. "Actually, it's none of my business."

Harry didn't seem to hear her. He was still looking at the vials. _Not yet_, she could have sworn she heard him say under his breath. He suddenly shook his head as if clearing it and looked back at her. "They're mostly silly things, really."

Ginny doubted that, but she let it go. "D'you think Ron and Hermione . . ." she started to say, just as Harry said, "Let me know what happens on . . ." They both stopped, gesturing each other to go first.

"I just wanted to know if you'd tell me what Robards says to you on Monday, if you don't mind," said Harry.

Ginny nodded. "Of course, but hopefully it will be nothing."

"I hope so too," said Harry. He stood up and picked up the Pensieve. "And yes, I think it's probably safe to leave the room. Give me a second and I'll show you how to take down the wards."

Ginny got up too, and yawned. "I already need a nap," she said. "That delivery owl woke me up way too early." She touched Harry's arm. "Meet for a run later?"

Harry nodded. "I'd like that, yes." He pulled open the door to his room and they immediately heard Ron and Hermione's voices. Harry listened intently for a moment. "Ron seems to have gotten over his desire to hex the entire Prophet," he said. He looked at Ginny. "Do you want to wait until later to tell him you know about the Chamber?"

Ginny nodded. "I'll make you all dinner, how about that?"

Harry chuckled. "Did your mum drop off more food then?"

Ginny swatted at him. "Prat." She gave him a sheepish look. "Yes."

Harry grinned. "Well then, I'll be over around 6."


	11. Robards Reversing

A/N: I'm sorry this has taken me so long to get posted and I'm sorry it's shorter than normal. I originally intended to add another 2-3 scenes to this chapter, but writing those could take me another week at least, and I wanted to keep moving forward here. I'm excited about a few things I have planned soon; fingers crossed for more writing and less needing to parent. :)

The Monday morning meeting with Robards didn't happen. Sunday night, he sent a brief Patronus informing Ginny that he had important business to attend, and that they'd have to talk later. Having never gotten a Patronus from the head Auror before, Ginny wasn't sure if the rather terse tone of Robard's voice was typical of if she was imagining that he sounded somewhat put out. It bothered her more than she liked, the not knowing. _Maybe he'd planned to discipline me after all. Or talk about the newspaper article, and now he can't. Bugger that I can't listen to it again. _

Ginny couldn't stop thinking about whether she was reading too much into the situation, and when it occurred to her that Harry might have some insight, she left her flat and hurried down the hallway.

She didn't have to travel far; apparently most of the Arrows were deep in the middle of an impromptu game of something that looked kind of like Quidditch down the entire length of the corridor. Somehow, they'd gotten ahold of a number of children's toy brooms, and each man was hunched over a too-small handle, feet skimming the ground as he tried to maneuver around a jumble of chairs and other obstacles spread across the floor. Just outside Ginny's door, Dam prowled back and forth in front of what appeared to be a laundry basket that had been charmed to float above him, the incongruity of his large frame and the small broom made even greater by the fact that his happened to be pink and sparkly.

He caught sight of Ginny and called out a greeting. "Sorry, Gin, are we being too noisy?"

Before Ginny could answer, a crash and the swear of an oath down the hall revealed itself to be Harry and Chaser Kipling Cross in a heap on the ground. A Muggle-style beach ball was bobbing in the air around them, occasionally dive bombing to smack one or the other in the face. Ginny could see one of the Beaters – she still didn't know them well enough to tell them apart – grinning at the sight from his own broom. Obviously, he'd been the catalyst for the crash.

"Gin . . . Ginny! Hi! I didn't realize, I mean, I saw you, but . . . oh bugger." Between the beach ball, the tiny broom, the bookshelf he'd fallen on, and Kipling's legs, Harry seemed to be having a more difficult time than he should getting himself righted. His face was red from effort and when Ginny reached down to offer him a hand up, he took it with a sheepish grin and let her haul him to his feet.

"I'm surprised they let you use a full-sized broom, if this is the best you can do on a, what is that, a Sunbeam Starter?" Ginny teased. "I think that's the broom I got for Christmas when I was four."

"It's harder than it looks," said Harry defensively. He held out the toy. "Let's see you do better."

Without a word, Ginny straddled the broom's small handle and bent her knees until she rose about a foot off the ground. Grinning at Harry, she zigged and zagged around the obstacles in the hallway, making a wide turn at the end and then scooping up a ball of socks they were apparently using as one of the Quaffles. She was almost back to where Dam was guarding the laundry basket when two violently green beach balls flew into her line of sight from opposite directions. She couldn't swerve quickly enough to avoid both and ended up tumbling over the front of her broom and falling ungracefully to the ground. One of the beach balls broke her fall, briefly, and then deflated underneath her with a rather embarrassing sound. In front of her, Dam barked a laugh. "What did you eat, Weasley?" He and Harry both reached down to help her up. Ginny ignored Harry's smirk, but took his hand and knocked her hip into his _on accident_as she got to her feet, rubbing her elbow where she'd fallen.

"Sorry, Ginny," the twins said in unison.

"No you're not," she said, laughing. "Good aim, both of you."

"I told you it wasn't as easy at it looked," said Harry. "But I'm sorry we were so loud."

Ginny shook her head. "You weren't," she said. "I've never taken the wards off my flat; the Weird Sisters could be playing out here and I'd not know." She lowered her voice. "I actually need to talk to you. About work."

Harry's expression immediately closed. He grabbed her elbow and peered at it carefully. "This needs ice," he said. "You don't want it to swell. It's your wand arm." He tossed his toy broom at Dam. "Hang on to this, will you? I want a rematch after our next road trip." Without waiting for an answer, Harry steered Ginny quickly to his door. Inside, he set up the same wards Ginny kept on her own flat, and the silence from the hallway descended immediately.

Ron looked up from the table. "Hey Ginny, what's up? Did you finish the reading for tomorrow? All those town names and buildings and magical organizations to memorize." He rubbed his face.

Ginny grinned. "I finished this morning," she said. "Didn't Hermione make you a study schedule?"

Ron grimaced. "Yeah, she did. But then I got . . . distracted." He flushed and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I really don't want to know, but I'll just say it's your own fault then," she said. "But I'll help test you later on, if you want. I just have a . . . question for Harry first."

Ron nodded and stretched. "Want me to leave?" he asked easily. "I can study in my room."

Ginny shrugged. "You can stay, it's not a secret. At least, not from you." Her relationship with her brother had been improving ever since they started training together, but the talk Ron, Ginny and Harry had had about the Chamber had been particularly transformative. Ron and Harry had fallen over each other trying to take more of the blame and apologize, and Ginny had reciprocated by confessing how sorry she was for having been such a brat to both of them for so long. More than one of them had gotten teary, there had been some wry laughter, and then finally they made a brief Floo call of explanation to the Burrow. Ginny was pretty certain her parents hadn't yet exhausted their thoughts on the topic, but she had to admit they'd handled the revelation well, holding back most of their questions and promising to share the news with the rest of the family. After it was done, Ron had seemed the most relieved, and Ginny realized just how much the subterfuge had been weighing on him. Harry had been characteristically quiet, and went Ron went off to Hermione's for the night, Ginny had said a quick goodbye and left as well.

And now Ginny was more than okay with Ron hearing her concerns about Robards' message. Although, sitting here with him and Harry made her earlier suspicions seem a little silly. Hesitantly, she explained.

"His Patronus sounded, I don't know, annoyed maybe? I've never heard him send one before, so I'm not sure if that's normal for him, or if he was just busy or something. He didn't say anything about rescheduling the meeting, so maybe they just decided it wasn't that important?"

"I think it's important," said Ron. He jumped up and went to the kitchen. "Butterbeer, anyone?" Over the clank of bottles and opening of cupboards, he kept talking. "I was actually at the Ministry this morning," he said. "Forgot my notes in my locker," he added sheepishly. "Hermione told me that I'd be lucky to remember . . . well, that's not important."

"Not to us, at least," said Harry seriously. Ginny could see him fighting a smile. "But I'd not say that to your girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Ron. He passed out bottles and plunked a plate of cookies on the table. Ginny narrowed her eyes. "This looks like an awful lot of Mum's gingerbread and lemon thumb prints for only two people," she said. "And somehow, I didn't get a delivery myself." She reached out and deliberately snatched two of the largest cookies.

Ron shrugged, mouth already full. "You're eating them now, stop complaining," he said. He turned back to his earlier topic. "About Robards. Like I said, I was at the Ministry this morning and I happened to see hear him in his office. Hadn't closed the door. Probably thought no one else would come in on a Sunday."

"Probably," agreed Harry. "What was he saying?"

"He was talking to someone, sounded like maybe they were through a Floo," said Ron. "Asking them to 'hold off please, for now,' and that there wasn't anything to know. Sounded like a woman he was talking to." He scrunched his eyes. "I wish I'd had extendable ears; usually I carry them with me, you know? But I was in a rush to get there and back before Hermione . . . well, she needed to shower, and I wanted her to . . ." never mind.

Ginny sighed. "Something else I was okay not knowing, ever, Ron. Did you hear anything else?"

Ron nodded. "The woman said something. At least, I'm pretty sure it was a woman, I think he called her Joy, actually. She said something about a favor. Maybe she was doing Robards a favor? And he snorted and said it was only because she'd been found out, and not to underestimate the Aurors." Ron picked up his butterbeer as if to take a drink, and then put it down again. He looked seriously at Ginny. He also told that Joy person not to underestimate you. And I heard Harry's name too." He shook his head. "And then I got out of there; I really didn't want to get caught." He took a big drink. "I'm sorry I didn't hear more. But I definitely got the impression that he still thought Ginny was important. Maybe he needed to call in someone else to talk to you too?"

Ginny frowned. "That still doesn't explain why he sounded mad in his message to me."

"Robards doesn't usually sound mad when he actually _is _mad," said Harry. "It's something that took me a while to figure out." He touched Ginny's hand. "We could look at the memory in my Pensieve, if you want."

Using a Pensieve was an upcoming training lesson, but Ginny had never used one for her own thoughts before. "Is it hard to do?" she asked.

Harry shook his head as he got up. "Just concentrate on that specific memory while you hold your wand to your temple. It should stick to your wand pretty easily."

Ginny did as Harry said, but it was still with some trepidation that she watched the silvery strands of her thoughts swirl in the bowl. There seemed to be a lot of them, but then, she'd never pulled out any of her own memories before. Before she could ask any other questions, Harry put his hand on her back and gently leaned her towards the bowl as he bent forward himself. Next to her, Ron mimicked her actions.

And suddenly, the three of them were standing in her flat. Ginny winced to herself to see her own image standing in the living room, looking at the pile of unfolded laundry on her sofa; she'd theoretically been about to start folding it when Robards' Patronus had arrived. Next to her, Ron snorted. "Good thing mum's not here, eh?" He jumped out of the way as Ginny tried to swat him while next to them, Harry said "hush," as the silver alligator slunk into view.

"_That's_ his . . ." Ron began, until Ginny elbowed him. A second later, it began to speak.

_Ginny, it's Gawain Robards. I apologize that I need to cancel . . . or reschedule . . . our meeting for tomorrow. It's not . . . something has come up and I cannot attend. I will be in contact._

The message ended abruptly and the alligator faded away. The memory Ginny frowned at it and opened her mouth as if about to speak, then shook her head. A moment later she nodded and headed towards the door.

"I'm going to ask you about it," Ginny said, unnecessarily. Inexplicably, the memory didn't end; Ginny watched herself open the door to her flat and stare down the hall at Harry, flying low circles around the Arrows' Chasers on his toy broom. After a minute, Dam called out his apology from beyond her line of sight and memory Ginny turned to look at him for a brief second before Harry's crash with Kipling pulled her focus back that way.

"Looks worse from this perspective," Harry muttered next to her. "Did I really flip off sideways?"

Ginny shrugged. "I guess so; I didn't remember seeing it until now." She gave him a sheepish grin. "And you were flying pretty well until then. I hadn't realized."

Harry grinned back and looked about to speak when the memory ended and suddenly, the three of them were standing back in Ron and Harry's flat. Ron was laughing. "Next time, get me in on the game," he said. "I'll play Keeper at the other end."

Harry groaned. "I hope there isn't a next time, I'm still sore." He looked at Ginny. "Robards wasn't mad. He's hiding something," he said bluntly. "Or doesn't want you to know the truth. All the pauses gave it away; he isn't very good at thinking quickly on his feet when it comes to the small details like that."

"Really?" asked Ginny. "Seems like that would be a liability for an Auror, not to be able to lie or hide the truth sometimes."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, he can lie with the best of them," said Harry. "Big things, at least. He just rarely has to bother with the small stuff."

"Well then, I'm glad Ginny's considered 'small stuff'" said Ron. His tone was light, but Ginny could hear the seriousness underlying his words. She shuddered lightly.

"Me too," she agreed, hoping Ron couldn't hear the lie. She didn't for a second believe Robards thought her unimportant. Next to her, Harry made a small sound and she didn't have to look at him to know he was thinking the same thing.

"Well, I guess that means we can walk to work together then," she said lightly to her brother. He looked horrified, and Ginny had to laugh.

"Or you can sleep in like usual and Floo there at the last second, as long as you remember to bring me coffee, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Ron said, looking sheepish.

"I'll go with you. I have to stop by the Ministry tomorrow anyway."

Ginny turned to Harry in surprise. "Whatever for?"

Harry grimaced. "Six-month physical, I'm off schedule from the rest of the team. I joined at an odd time last Spring because of Dearborn's pregnancy, and since it's just me, I have to go to the Department of Magical Sports and Games and meet with one of the trainers there; for everyone else they send a team to our practice facilities."

Ginny didn't think Harry had been to the Ministry since he'd left the Aurors. Being seen there with her had to be the last thing he'd want to do. It would be just like Harry to make such an offer anyway, just so she'd have company. Still, Ginny didn't detect any hesitance in his offer, but maybe he'd spoken without thinking. She tried to give him a way out.

"Why not at St. Mungo's? Wouldn't that be a better place for a physical?"

Harry shrugged again. "One would think so, but I was called to the Ministry," he said. "Keep all the paperwork in one place, I guess."

Ginny nodded. "They're all about their paperwork, that's for sure." She smiled. "Well then, yes, I'd love to walk with you tomorrow morning."

Harry grinned back. "Excellent. If you're lucky, maybe I'll coax Ron out of bed early enough to make the coffee before we leave."

"I won't hold my breath," said Ginny.


	12. The Sisters Three?

A/N: This is more of a bridge chapter than I planned; I was going to end it somewhere else further along, but the action of the next three or four scenes to get there would have taken another 5,000 words, so I think they need their own chapter. It's going to be a big one! And a big thank you to Deadwoodpecker for helping me make the chapter just a little less boring and also for providing the assistance in Russian conversation. A translation will be forthcoming.

Ginny had to admit there was something comforting about walking with Harry to the Ministry Monday morning. Even if she wasn't going to be meeting with Robards after all, the events of the weekend combined with the abruptness of his message made her jittery. She said so, and Harry gave a small grimace.

"I wish I knew more. There are still a few people I could ask, people I worked with," he said slowly.

Ginny shook her head immediately. "Thank you Harry, but we both know that's not a good idea." Harry started to open his mouth and Ginny held up her hand. "I know you would, in a second, if I really needed it. But right now I don't need any other information that badly and I'd rather save whatever help you could give for something more important. "

Harry relaxed and nodded. "You're right," he said. He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I know you can manage yourself."

"And I know it's difficult for you to sit back and not get involved," Ginny said.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I'm used to knowing more about what's going on," he admitted. He shrugged. "It will be good to get back on the road; we have a tough away schedule coming up."

Harry's tone was casual, but his sudden change of subject was not; Ginny played along though. "Tutshill, then Holyhead, and then . . . Wimbourne?" she asked, purposely getting it wrong.

"Puddlemere," Harry corrected. "It'll be great to see Oliver again. He and Alicia just got engaged, had you heard?"

Ginny nodded. "Angelina told me."

"Oh, right. I forgot you see her every day in training. And Lee." A strange look passed across Harry's face, so quickly, Ginny wasn't sure if she'd imagined it. A second later he was relaxed again. "I'm sure we'll all meet up after the match to celebrate since it's at the end of our road trip. There's a pub near Puddlemere's stadium that Dam likes."

"Are there any pubs Dam doesn't like?" asked Ginny lightly. Harry grinned. "Good point," he said. "I've yet to find one."

They were approaching the Ministry. Ginny turned to her left but Harry didn't follow. "Coming?"

The strange look was back on Harry's face. He pointed down the block to the red telephone booth. "I have to take the visitor's entrance."

"Ahh. Right." Ginny hesitated for a second, and Harry shook his head.

"You don't have to come with me; I know the employee entrance is quicker. Besides," he said in a rush, "I don't know if it's a good idea for us to be seen entering together anyway."

Ginny flushed; she should have known better. "Right. You're right." She gave him a small smile. "I'll wait for you inside though." Harry nodded and walked down the street.

Ginny took her time going to the employee entrance. Not for the first time, she was relieved that the Ministry had removed the toilets that had been the only way into the building during Voldemort's reign. Now the open stalls held simple fireplaces that were so quick, there was no time to get dizzy or sooty before arriving in the main lobby.

She took her time walking to the lifts, stopping to say hello to people she knew, her eye on the visitor's entrance, but still Harry did not appear. Finally, she stopped and picked up a copy of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet to try to kill another few minutes. She hadn't seen the late paper the night before, and wanted to know if the Prophet was still going on about the events at Ginny's flat. She was just turning to the Quidditch news where an article would be, one eye half on the place where she expected to see Harry, when a heavy hand on her shoulder made her jump.

"Catching up on the early news, are you, Miss Weasley? I assume you got my Patronus that our meeting wasn't necessary." Any hesitance or oddness from Robards' message the night before was gone, and his voice boomed across the Atrium.

Ginny forced her breathing to slow. "Sorry sir, you surprised me," she managed. She nodded stiffly. "I got your message that something had come up and you needed to cancel, yes. Coming in early is a habit for me anyway." For the first time, Ginny noticed that Robards was standing with Shephard Kane; and she couldn't help but notice the quick look that passed between them. Then Robards nodded.

"Meeting wasn't necessary, yes," he said again.

She glanced quickly towards the visitors' entrance, mentally willing Harry to stay away for just another few minutes. Inconveniently, none of the lifts were there. "Uh, right," she said. She saw Robards follow her gaze and she quickly turned back and forced herself to look him in the eye. "Yes," she said more clearly. "I remember you saying the meeting wasn't necessary." Robards stared at her for a moment and it took everything in Ginny's power to empty her mind and not flinch. A moment later he gave a tiny nod and then spoke slowly.

"As you know, your training class will be going on its first field mission today." He glanced again at the visitor's entrance and Ginny thought his gaze swept the space between the visitor's check-in desk and the entrance to the health matron's office just across. She bit her lip, frustrated with herself and her failed Occlumency. As she watched, a man wearing the blue uniform of Magical Maintenance pushed open the door with hip while clutching his forearm, from which it appeared the branches of a tree were sprouting. For a moment, he seemed to wobble on his feet before the door swung open wider and he entered. Robards' eyes narrowed and he turned as if about to follow after the maintenance worker. Then his face cleared, and he smiled a rather grim smile at Ginny.

"I'd like you to speak to your training class about your experience in the Chamber of Secrets before we leave for our field work," he said. He raised his eyebrows. "Unless that's a problem?"

Ginny shook her head. "It's not a problem, no. I'd be . . . happy to tell everyone about what happened." The lie rolled easily off her tongue; she'd been thinking for a long time how not to show emotion about this issue. Her feeling about letting Robards pluck the thought of Harry out of her head was a different matter, as was the unease she felt about the Head Auror's apparent lack of hesitance to use Legilimancy on his subordinates. She pushed those feelings aside and squared her shoulders, relieved that Harry had found a way inside without being seen.

_Of course he'd have brought his Invisibility Cloak. _Ginny had never seen it, but Ron had come home after his first year gushing about the cloak and how useful it was. Ginny knew that "useful" really meant that it let them get up to all sorts of mischief, but she knew it had also been a vital part of their safety during the year of the Horcrux hunt. _I wonder how often he uses it now? It would be a lot of help with those fan-witches._

Ginny made a mental note to mention it to Harry that evening. Maybe he wouldn't need it on the road as much as for home games, but still, it wasn't a bad idea to keep it with him at all times. _He probably knows that already though; he's used the Cloak to get out of scrapes for years. Just because . . . _

"Ginny? Are you coming up?" Shephard Kane was looking at her, holding the door of the lift open. Belatedly, Ginny realized he must have asked the question more than once. She flushed and nodded.

"Yeah, thanks," she muttered, quickly following the two men inside. She cast about for something to say that would make it look like she hadn't been daydreaming – or thinking about Harry – in front of her bosses. "So, um, when I talk about the Chamber, do you want me to make a speech, or should it just be question and answer?" If she could have come up with absolutely any other topic, Ginny would have said something else, but her question had the desired effect. Robards gave her an approving smile and ushered her off the lift first when it reached the WHAT floor.

"Why don't you come to my office and practice what you want to tell the class? I'm sure Shephard would like to hear about your experience too, so he can prepare a lesson on it for later."

Ginny gave her fake smile again. "That's a good idea," she said. She followed them down the hall, silently reminding herself that Robards actually wasn't as bad as she was letting herself imagine. _Just because Harry had an . . . uncomfortable relationship with the man doesn't mean he's not very good at his job. __And even Harry says he's a top-notch investigator. Maybe he's just not very good knowing how to deal with inexperienced students. _ Keeping that thought firmly in the front of her brain, she settled herself in a hard chair in the Head Auror's office.

Almost immediately, Ginny realized there was a problem. It had only been a couple of days since she herself had learned the truth about what had happened in the Chamber, and she had no idea what Robards knew. Did he still think Ron had been the one to kill the Basilisk? If so, how exactly was she supposed to explain why that story wasn't the real one without giving away too much personal information about Harry? For one thing Ginny was sure was that Harry would not want his former boss, or anyone else for that matter, analyzing a decision he'd made when he was twelve years old and not corrected until he was twenty. She tried to think quickly, berating herself for not asking Harry more questions about what to say. She'd known for weeks the Aurors were interested in what had happened in the Chamber, even if she didn't quite understand why Robards and Kane especially cared so much about something that had happened so long ago.

"The most important lesson I learned is that you should never trust something that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain," she said. That was safe to say, at least. "I grew up hearing my parents say that, but I'll admit, it's harder to remember when you are actually faced with an enchanted object."

"And when you're only eleven," said Robards, peering at her. "And, dare I say, eager to find someone willing to listen to your complaints about your brother and his best mate? I'm sure you can see the usefulness in teaching the other trainees how to recognize when a dark object is trying to influence your mind? "

_Damn_, thought Ginny to herself. _Exactly how much did he know and how had he discovered it? _The irony was not lost on her. "The Basilisk . . ." she began, thinking to change the topic.

"Yes, yes, the Basilisk is interesting," Robards interrupted. "You'll cover that in your class on magical creatures." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I daresay you aren't likely to run into too many of those serpents in your work. It's the human interaction with the enchanted Horcrux that's really important." He peered again at Ginny. "What happened between you and Harry and Voldemort's soul is the real story here."

There were a lot of threads in Robards' speech, and Ginny wasn't sure which one to pull first and what might give too much away. She immediately dropped her eyes to her hands – it was the least she could do to protect herself – while she thought.

"Can you please stop trying to take my thoughts out of my head?" said Ginny irritably. "I know I have to work more on my Occlumency, but you don't need to keep reminding me." She knew it was a bad idea to talk like that to her boss, but Robards merely chuckled. "Habit, with my trainees, Miss Weasley," he said calmly. "I would expect you to know to break eye contact as you did. You will learn better ways to defend against it soon."

Ginny bit back her retort about whether trying to read the trainees' minds was the best way to gain their trust. Legilimency wasn't illegal; indeed, Witch Weekly regularly ran stories encouraging witches to use it on their boyfriends to DISCOVER HIS REAL THOUGHTS ABOUT YOU. It was a tricky skill and most people weren't very good at it anyway; she remembered overhearing Harry talk to Ron about how difficult it was. He'd blamed his failure at Occlumency for Sirius' death, she knew. _Maybe that's why there was tension between Harry and Robards; his casual use of Legilimency couldn't have sat well with Harry. _Ginny put it on her list of things she wanted to ask him about later.

"It's quite impressive that you were able to survive the encounter with the Horcrux when you were only eleven. And you and Harry actually saw Voldemort's soul?" The curiosity was obvious in Shepard Kane's voice.

Ginny shrugged, still not looking at either man in the eye. They both obviously already knew that it was Harry and not Ron who'd done most of her rescuing. For a moment, she felt a flash of annoyance, wondering how they knew. She pushed down the feeling – telling herself Harry wouldn't have purposely told Robards the truth – and nodded stiffly.

"Riddle came out of the diary he enchanted," she said. "I don't remember too much; I didn't really wake up until later." She left out as many details as possible, that she had spoken to Tom Riddle a number of times by writing in the diary, and that she did remember seeing him step out of it in the Chamber to speak to her, and that everything had gone dark until after Harry had killed the Basilisk and stabbed the diary. Instead, she grabbed at something else Robards had said.

"What do you mean, that's the real story? It was a long time ago. I'll talk about my own experience if it helps the trainees understand the magic involved, but there's no reason to go further." She hoped her meaning was clear; she wasn't going to say much about Harry.

"Ahh well, there's been some renewed interest in what happened," said Robards. "With the recent attempted break-in in your building, and Harry's role in thwarting the attempted intruder. And yours of course too," he added, inclining his head. "It's an interesting parallel, both of you are still working together to stop Dark forces in unconventional ways."

"You were all so young," added Kane. "Voldemort was in his sixteen-year-old form, what he not?"

It didn't escape Ginny's attention that Robards shot Kane a sharp look. Filing away that information for later, she focused on an easier question. "How can there be 'renewed interest?'" she asked cautiously. "Dumbledore did a good job of suffocating news of the Chamber back then. It never made it into the papers, other than to say that the danger from the Heir of Slytherin had been addressed." Again, Ginny wished she could talk to Harry. The conversation wasn't making any sense; she was missing something – did it have to do with what Ron had overheard and Robards' reason for cancelling their meeting? She had no idea.

"I'm sure the Prophet would think it an interesting angle," said Kane bluntly, and suddenly, Ginny understood.

"You want to deflect from criticism that I didn't follow proper procedure when that Bellows woman tried to break in."

Robards let out a breath. "Well yes, we do," he said. He glanced at Kane again before continuing. "If you and Harry . . ."

"No." Ginny forced herself to keep her voice calm. "I'm sorry, but I thought I'd already made that clear. I won't . . ."

"Of course. Of course not," said Robards hurriedly. "I didn't mean to imply you would."

Ginny wasn't sure she and Robards were agreeing to the same thing. In the corridor outside his office, she heard the murmur of other voices, so instead of trying to pin him down, she just nodded and gestured to the door. "I should probably . . ."

"Get to class, yes," agreed Robards. He looked at his watch. "And actually, I think we'll have to postpone your talk for another day. I want to make sure you all have enough time for your field assignments."

Ginny suspected Robards had just then changed his mind about having her talk about the Chamber, and she wondered why. It was yet another issue to consider. _At the rate I'm going, I'm going to need to talk to Harry for a week. _Again, Ginny looked down, sure that if Robards caught her eye he'd know immediately that she was thinking about talking to Harry about him. _And that's not completely fair,_ she reminded herself. _Harry hasn't told you about why he left the Aurors specifically because he didn't want to influence your opinions. So keep an open mind and stop looking for suspicious behavior in your boss. _She nodded. "That's a good idea, sir," she said, fixing her gaze just beyond Kane's left shoulder. "I know we're all eager to get outside."

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An hour later, she and Ron walked together through the Atrium to the fireplaces at the far end, discussing whether it would be better to floo directly to their target shop or approach it from the street. They were very carefully not talking about the fact that Robards had specifically matched them together for this assignment, but she knew it was on both of their minds. Ginny couldn't help but flick her eyes towards the entrance to the Ministry Health Center as they walked by. The door was just swinging closed as if someone had entered. Still, she was proud of the fact that she didn't startle even a little bit when Harry spoke close to her ear.

"Don't say anything about me," he said in a low voice. "I'll see you later tonight at the flat?"

"Oh, Ron, I forgot to mention," Ginny said in a voice rather more loud than normal. "Mum sent over dinner for us. Make sure you tell Hermione to come to the flat at 6."

Ron nodded, nonplussed. "Will do," he said.

Ginny sensed that Harry had stopped following them; he was likely back at the visitor's entrance. She resisted the urge to turn around, and instead agreed with Ron when he suggested they floo to the Leaky and walk from there.

They kept their conversation light as they walked down the street. The apothecary that was their target was about halfway down, its entrance half-hidden in the eave of the staircase that dropped sharply away towards Knockturn Alley. _Killdares Complexities _read the dingy sign over the door. Ginny had never been inside; her family had always shopped at the brighter _Leadbeating & Sons _next door to WWW; the owner had actually helped her brothers get the premises, and now was enjoying almost double the business as before.

"Homeschooling, remember?" Ginny muttered to Ron as she pushed open the door.

"I know," said Ron. "I was in class too, you know."

"Barely," retorted Ginny. "I saw you slide in the room just as . . ." she stopped talking.

The shop was as dark and crowded on the inside as Ginny would have expected from its exterior, but the three witches huddled around the counter would have stood out anyway. Matching platinum blonde hair (all likely the product of the same coloring spell) sat above tight, slightly tacky-looking robes, and even with their backs to the door, the women's body language suggested the type of air-headed flirtatiousness worthy of the Arrows' fanwitches.

".. . .odyezhdu? Ya nadeyus ty prav . . ." one of them was saying. Ginny frowned at the unfamiliar language. _Russian?_

"What are they saying?" whispered Ron? Behind him, the slow door finally shut with a heavy thunk and the women stopped talking and turned around. Ginny felt a moment of shock, but quickly masked it. Next to her, Ron gave a sharp intake of breath.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Katerina Bellows' voice had none of the fake sickly-sweetness she used around the Quidditch players. She crossed her arms and glared.

Next to her Nadia took a step forward, arms also crossed. "Haven't you already caused enough trouble? The Aurors questioned me for hours and now I'm subject to a charm that prevents me from getting within 100 yards of any Arrows' player."

"You were the one who tried to break into the building," Ginny pointed out. "I can hardly help it if the Aurors punished you for that."

"Ahh, but if you had followed proper procedure and simply called for the real Aurors, they would have treated my sister as causing a simple nuisance." The third woman – another sister? – shuffled closer to Nadia. "Instead, you had to use all those higher level spells, which triggered a much greater Auror response and an unnecessarily severe penalty for Nadia." The woman spoke authoritatively, with a level of confidence that made Ginny pause. Next to her, Ron made a soft sound, as if he'd just understood something.

"We're here on official Auror business," said Ginny. "Where is the proprietor?"

"Auror trainee business," the third woman corrected. She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, you are regularly in the habit of pretending you're more advanced than you really are."

"It's still official business for the Aurors, regardless of whether we're trainees or not," said Ron defensively. "And anyway, what do you know about it?" Ginny felt a tiny, subtle touch on her hand, warning her to be quiet. _Ron knew something._

The third woman tossed her hair. "I know more that you'd believe," she said. And it's only my deep, deep respect for Gawain Robards that has kept the rest of the world from knowing it too. At least not yet." She spoke in a self-satisfied voice that made Ginny itch to hex her. But her comment about Robards was too convenient, and next to her, Ron was vibrating with suppressed energy. Instead, Ginny shuffled to the right, nodding in satisfaction when Katerina and Nadia mimicked her. Whatever they'd been looking at on the counter was something they wanted to keep secret. She was trying to figure out how to see what it was – had they learned any spells that would help? – when a rather faded looking young woman shuffled out from behind a curtain off to the side.

"I found the Baobob sap. It looks a little cloudy but stir it well before you add it and it should clear up nicely." The woman sounded only slightly more vibrant than her appearance. She walked forward and put a paper-wrapped box on the counter, seemingly oblivious to Ginny and Ron.

"That's fine, thanks, we'll just pay for all this and go now," said Katerina hurriedly. She turned away and Ginny heard the plunk of heavy coins.

"And here's the lilac powder." The woman kept talking as if Katerina hadn't spoken. "It will mask the smell of the crocus savitus better than the rosehips essence there." She held up a small bag and only then seemed to notice that her customers were in a rush. She frowned. "Should I get you a bag to carry everything? You may not want . . ." She looked up, finally making eye contact with Ginny. "It's so heavy," she said, even though the packages the women were holding obviously were not.

Katerina and Nadia were already halfway to the door. "Get it, Zoya," Katerina said over her shoulder. She looked quickly at Ron and Ginny. "Making a headache tonic," she muttered. "I get them when it storms."

Ginny nodded. "Of course. Good idea." She stood aside.

At the door, Katerina turned around. "Thanks for the tonic ingredients, Lucretia. I'm sure it will help my head a lot."

The woman named Lucretia nodded distractedly, her eyes now focused on Ginny and Ron's Auror robes.

"They're only trainees, Lu. No need to tell them anything important," said Katerina lightly. "I'll be back tomorrow to let you know how my head is feeling, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, she bustled her sisters out the door and hurried behind them.

Ron exhaled. "Zoya, not Joy," he said. "That's who . . ."

Ginny elbowed him. "Not now," she said under her breath. She looked at the shopkeeper. "Lucretia, is it?"

The woman nodded cautiously. There was a movement at her side and Ginny saw a small girl, no older than seven or eight, hanging on woman's hip. _Perfect_. Ginny smiled at them both. "I'm Ginny Weasley and this is my brother, Ron," she said in as friendly a voice as possible. "As Miss Bellows told you, we are both Auror trainees, just working on a training exercise, nothing more. May we ask you a couple of questions?"

The woman nodded cautiously. Ron took out a magical clipboard. They didn't really need it - the questions they were to ask were pretty basic – but apparently, _clipboards added an air of authority._

"Right then," said Ginny. "Really all we need to know right now is if it's accurate that you registered your children to be home-schooled past age eleven, is that correct?" It was frustrating that they hadn't been told exactly why it was important to track children who were being taught at home. From what Ginny had always understood, it wasn't an unusual practice; there were any number of reasons some wizard children might not go to Hogwarts or Beauxbatons or whatever. It had never been a big deal before. But now Robards and the others wanted to create a registry of witches and wizards who were not formally taught at a school. It was supposedly to keep track of inadvertent magical mistakes caused by untrained wizards, but Ginny didn't quite believe that. The Ministry had any number of means to track magical mistakes and accidents, not to mention deliberate acts. A person's schooling shouldn't really be relevant. Ginny had said as much to Ron and he'd just shrugged. "For all we know, it's busywork anyway," he'd said. "To get us in practice for when we have to really interview witnesses and things."

Ginny didn't believe that either. Still, she asked the designated question and duly recorded Lucretia's affirmance that yes, she was planning to home-school all three of her children, starting with her son Lucas, who'd be turning eleven in just a few weeks. The woman didn't ask why the Aurors wanted to know, so they weren't able to give them the standard answer that it was _Auror procedure, _and Ginny had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from asking if it was common for three people to come shopping together for something as simple as a headache tonic. _Later_, she told herself.

Lucretia's nerves didn't seem to calm the entire time Ginny and Ron were in the shop, and the relief on her face was obvious when Ginny announced they had the information they needed.

Once outside, Ron nearly exploded with his news. "That sister, the third one, she's who I heard Robards' talking to on Sunday."

Ginny gave him a sharp look. "Are you sure?"

Ron nodded. "Positive. Didn't her sister call her Zoya? I thought her name was Joy."

"And she told us she's close to Robards," Ginny said slowly. "I wonder what she meant."

"Well, it didn't sound like he particularly liked her," said Ron. "He sounded annoyed, actually."

"Hmm," said Ginny. "I wonder what Harry thinks. Maybe he has an idea of what it means when Robards sounds annoyed." They were walking up Diagon Alley now, dodging shoppers and café tables full of people.

"You can ask him tonight," laughed Ron. "Aren't you bringing some of mum's cooking over at 6?"

"If you're lucky," said Ginny. "But now I think I'm going to get changed for a run. As soon as we send our data back, I mean." The trainees had been given a rare afternoon off once they'd finished their fieldwork. Ginny and Ron had visited three homes to inquire about homeschooling and it was barely 2 pm.

Ron frowned. "Should we tell Gawain and Shepard about the Bellows sisters? You didn't believe what they said about a headache potion, did you?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not for a second, no," she said. She frowned. "I think we shouldn't say anything yet," she said. "Gawain would want to know how we recognized Zoya's voice or else it would just get him interested in talking to me about Nadia's attempted break-in again. I don't feel like dealing with all that right now." She hadn't even had time to tell Ron about what Robards and Kane had told her this morning, and now Ginny just felt too tired of all of it to think any more. She felt a brief jolt of understanding for Harry, running off to the Arrows last Spring. She loved being in the Auror corps, but right now, nothing felt straightforward, and she wasn't sure how much of her discomfort was legitimate and how much was manufactured suspicion. She needed to take a run, alone, and some time to clear her head.


	13. Suds and Spells

A/N: Every time I have a plan for what I want to include in a chapter, it ends up getting so long that I have to push off half of what I intended to write for later. That happened here. I actually finished this several days ago, but I didn't want to post it until I was sure it set up the next chapter in the right way. That next chapter is now over 5,000 words, and probably has another 2,000 to go before it's done. I hope to have it up in the next few days, and I think it's going to be very pleasing to a few of you. Special thanks to Opaque-Cavalier for asking a few very good questions and making some astute observations. I'm not sure all your issues are addressed here, but I think they will be soon.

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Much to her consternation, Ginny realized she didn't have a single clean – or even semi-clean – item of clothing that would be appropriate to wear for a run. It wasn't just a question of putting on something she'd worn once before knowing it was about to get sweaty again anyway; her pile of exercise clothing mocked her from a smelly mound in the corner of her flat, daring her to even attempt yet another freshening charm. It would be just her luck to run into Harry or one of the other Arrows smelling like something that had died under a rock; she doubted even her mum knew enough magic to charm away the stink.

Sighing to herself, Ginny gathered all her dirty clothes into a basket to haul them down to the laundry room. Maybe the lull of the machines would give her time to think anyway.

The elevator trundled slowly down and Ginny tried to empty her mind, or to at least to focus on only one issue at a time. Trying to reconcile everything that had gone on over the past few days was giving her a headache, and she wasn't sure what to think about first. The Bellows sisters certainly factored high; she knew they were up to something (or more likely, a lot of somethings), but she wasn't convinced it was concerning as opposed to just a nuisance. They were just as likely to be particularly pushy celebrity-chasers who were enamored with Harry's double reasons for fame as actually up to anything truly dangerous. She'd keep an eye out for them, but decided that her run-in at the apothecary didn't warrant an extra conversation with Gawain.

And that was the other reason she wasn't jumping to tell the Aurors about Katerina and the others; Ginny wanted to lay especially low with her bosses right now. In her more rational moments, she thought that Robards' behavior wasn't so unusual for a senior Auror; Mad-Eye Moody had been even tougher (and sometimes crazier) about ferreting out dark magic. Ginny couldn't deny that they were learning a lot, watching how Robards and Kane and some of the others conducted themselves and how they taught the trainees how to prevent, recognize, and stop evil wizards. It went well beyond the defense they'd learned at Hogwarts and Ginny was grateful to be gaining so much knowledge.

It didn't mean she always agreed with it, though, and that was getting to be a problem.

She wondered if it was a common consequence of becoming an Auror; seeing suspicious activity everywhere. To be sure, none of Ginny's co-trainees had encountered anyone trying to break into their homes, and no one else seemed concerned about their boss' rather gratuitous use of Legilimency on them. Maybe they hadn't even noticed.

_Or maybe you're the only one Robards is interested in._

Ginny pushed that thought aside – again - and huffed a sigh as she shifted her basket of clothing to her other hip; she really should have charmed it lighter before leaving her flat. Pushing the door to the laundry room open with her shoulder, she was unsurprised to see a number of open washers.

_Am I the only one who has to do her own laundry? _She knew she wasn't, of course, but Ginny couldn't help but indulge in a bit of shallow self-pity. If she could afford a laundry service, she'd never be caught without the clean clothes she needed. She'd be on her run right now, instead of stuck in the humid and stuffy basement.

As if hearing her thoughts, the laundry room door pushed open again and a woman wearing the familiar blue and white uniform of Suds and Spells Laundry Service backed into the room, holding up her wand to levitate a large, half-full bin of dirty clothing that floated in after her. To Ginny's surprise, when the end of the bin cleared the door, she saw Harry, also with his wand out, helping keep the laundry basket in the air. He saw Ginny, and a strange, guarded look crossed his face.

"Hi Ginny," he said quickly. The laundry bin dropped with a thump as the Suds and Spells worker turned to look at her.

"Do you have laundry for me to pick up too? I was just getting Harry's and a few of his teammates' and when I knocked on his door he was kind enough to show me where the laundry room was." The woman smiled at Ginny. "I could offer you a new customer discount."

Now Ginny understood Harry's expression. She slowly shook her head, not having to try too hard to paste a sorry look on her face. "Can't afford a laundry service, I'm afraid," she said. "Even with a discount. I do my own wash instead."

"My roommate does his own laundry too," said Harry. He walked slowly into the room, skirting the large bin of clothes. "I'm lucky that my Quidditch salary pays me more than enough to afford comforts like sending out my laundry." He looked around. "I told . . . I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?"

"Calypso. My name's Calypso, laundry witch, at your service!" said the woman in a cheery voice. She waving her wand at the bin from her end; it rocked back and forth but seemed to be stuck in place. "Can you push this closer to the washers for me? I think it's caught on something."

"Sure," said Harry. He grabbed the side of the canvas basket and gave it a push as Ginny bit her tongue. It easily slid across the floor and bumped into the washer next to the one where Ginny was standing.

"Perfect," said Calypso. She looked down at a clipboard she'd pulled out of her robes. "But it looks like not all the players' laundry made it down here," she frowned. "We've been having problems with things getting stuck in the building's Floo-shoot. Hmmm. I'd better go check the entry points and figure out where the clog is. Why don't you wait here and keep an eye out for anything that makes it down?" She gestured to a large hole in the ceiling Ginny had never noticed before. A second bin like the one Harry was still holding was parked beneath it, the bubby logo of the washing company drifting across the side.

"Good . . . good idea," said Harry. He cleared his throat. "I'll . . . help Ginny with her laundry. Since she can't afford your services."

The laundry witch smiled brightly. "Perfect," she said again. "I'll be back in a trice." She very nearly skipped out of the laundry room, closing the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Ginny ran to Harry's side. "What's wrong? Should I chase her?"

Harry's eyes were shut tightly. He shook his head. "Don't touch anything," he said through clenched teeth. His hands grabbed roughly at the bottom hem of his pullover and there was a sound of ripping fabric. "Call . . . Aurors. She used . . . potion."

"Do you need St. Mungo's?" Ginny asked sharply. She sent a terse Patronus and turned back to Harry. He didn't look to be in pain, exactly, but his hands seemed to be moving of their own accord. Now they were tugging at his belt and then running down the sides of his jeans before moving up to rip at more of his shirt. "Is there a counter spell?"

"Almost . . . okay," Harry gasped. He stumbled back against a folding table. His hands splayed out in front of him, shaking, and then he suddenly took a deep breath, all the tension draining away. He opened his eyes. "Is help coming?"

Ginny nodded. "I sent an emergency message, reaching out to the nearest Aurors. I didn't know exactly what to tell them, just that someone dressed as a laundry worker had broken into the building and was using magic on tenants." She paused. "I used your name, I'm sorry. I thought maybe it would get them here faster."

Harry nodded, then winced. "It will, good idea. I can't believe . . ."

There was a sudden rushing noise, and Harry squinted his eyes as if listening to something. A second later he frowned and spoke into the air. "A woman, wearing a laundry uniform from Suds and Spells." Ginny noticed the lack of preliminaries with whomever Harry was speaking to; he obviously was talking to an Auror. She frowned, wondering what they were saying.

Harry was still listening, and he caught Ginny's eye before he spoke next.

"It's a compulsive potion, not too strong; I was able to throw it off after a few minutes . . . I'm not the Auror, why don't you ask her? She's more than capable of managing . . ." he got quiet again, listening as the noise started up again. "Well then, maybe it's time to teach them . . . fine. Hold on." He beckoned to Ginny. "Bram Rhodes and Camilla Stalk are upstairs looking for Calpyso," he said quietly. His mouth tightened as he raised his wand.

"I don't know why they haven't taught you all two-way communication yet, but that's not my . . ." he stopped and shrugged. "Come stand next to me; I can widen the spell enough for us both to be able to talk to them."

Ginny nodded, a small knot of tension leaving her. At least she knew why Camilla and Bram had reached out to Harry instead of her. He was trembling, probably from the after-effects of the potion, even though his voice was quite steady. Ginny put her hand lightly on his back and he leaned into her with a small smile. She gestured to the sole chair in the laundry room, a rickety thing that had probably been left by a previous tenant. "Do you . . .?" she asked quietly.

Harry shook his head. "I think I'm okay," he said. He shuffled closer to her and waved his wand, and suddenly Ginny heard Bram's voice.

". . . most of the doorknobs on the seventh floor, but we aren't sure where else. What was the transmission method for you?"

"The handle of the laundry bin, I think," Harry replied. "Ginny didn't touch it." He looked at her. "Right? You didn't touch the bin?" He inclined his head at the canvas basket."

Ginny shook her head and then realized she needed to speak. "I didn't," she said clearly. "We, Harry and I, we both knew something was off, but not what it was. The witch – Calypso – set him up; she pretended that levitating the bin wouldn't work." She didn't know why it felt imperative that she explain; certainly Bram and Camilla knew that Harry hadn't been affected by the potion because of any mistake he made.

Harry was speaking, answering a question Ginny missed. "Because I don't send out my laundry." He nodded at her to lean in so she could hear better.

". . .For not trying to stop her this time." Camilla sounded almost relieved. "We don't need another Prophet article right now."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest – _that hadn't been her fault – _but she shut it again almost immediately. That wasn't the issue right now. "Do you know where she is?" she asked instead. "Do you think she got out of the building?"

"Doubtful," said Bram. "The wards should have prevented it. But we need to make sure the tenants are protected first. We're about to go looking for her. Harry, you said it was a compulsion potion? What was it compelling you to do?"

Ginny saw a flush climb up Harry's cheeks as he answered. "It umm, it compelled me to umm, try to take of my clothes," he said in a rush. "Took me a minute or two before I realized though. Then I was able to fight it better." He looked firmly away from her.

"Ahhh. That . . . answers a few questions." Camilla sounded almost amused. "Both of you stay where you are until we're able to neutralize the potion throughout the building. Let us know if you hear anything." Her voice faded away.

Ginny looked down at Harry's clothing. She'd heard the fabric tearing, and now she saw that the bottom of his shirt was ripped in two; she could see his navel and the muscles of his abdomen through the hole. He'd also loosened his belt before he got control of the compulsion, and his trousers hung low on his hips. A thatch of dark hair trailed down from his stomach and disappeared into his waistband. Ginny only realized that her gaze had drifted there when Harry pulled his pants higher and refastened his belt.

"Sorry," said Ginny quickly. "I didn't mean to . . . I didn't see anything." She blushed.

"Okay," said Harry quietly. There was an odd beat of silence. Ginny chuckled nervously.

"Good thing you were able to resist the potion, or this could have gotten really awkward."

Harry let out a breath. "Yeah," he said. "That would have been . . . yeah." He grimaced. "Most of the team is upstairs," he said. "I have to suspect that at least one or two of them are naked right now, or close to it."

"That's not a funny prank," said Ginny hotly. "Even Fred and George wouldn't sell something that did that."

"I know," said Harry. "Compulsion potions aren't that far off from the Imperius curse, depending on their strength." He looked down at his hands and Ginny he was going to say something else, but he stayed silent.

Ginny nodded. "We've learned about them, but only in theory so far. I guess we'll have to chance to try to resist one or two later."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Ginny touched his arm. "What is it, Harry? I know there's something you aren't telling me. I thought we were past that." She tried to keep her voice light.

"We are, we are," said Harry quickly. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

Harry sighed. "You're the Auror trainee," he said. "Not me," he said.

Ginny shook her head, confused. "So? You still know a lot more than I do. I don't mind if you help me. I won't tell any of my teachers, don't worry," she added hastily. "They don't need to know that we talk about this stuff. You know, because they'd probably read too much into it or something." Still, Harry was silent, a pensive look on his face. He held his wand out in front of him and his eyes darted back and forth around the room. Ginny startled. In that moment, she didn't see her brother's best mate or her erstwhile object of jealousy and annoyance who had become – finally - a friend. She didn't even see a hot-shot Quidditch player. Harry looked like an Auror. He wasn't wearing the robes, but he might as well have been, and the months Ginny had spent learning to combat evil didn't come close to making her feel like she knew what Harry instinctively understood.

_And yet he'd walked away from it._

Harry had hinted at his reasons several times, and Ginny's entire family had respected his decision, even if they didn't quite understand it. Merlin knew, Robards and the others weren't exactly quiet about the fact that they thought Harry had made a mistake in leaving, but even so, Ginny had never really considered that Robards' blustering about Harry's unique expertise really meant the Aurors had lost something of value when Harry left.

_Or maybe something had been protected._

Ginny had been careful not to push Harry about the Aurors, and he'd made it clear he didn't want to influence her experiences there. It hadn't worked exactly worked, obviously; she and Harry seemed to get tangled up in her training more often than she could have ever expected and his behavior left Ginny with more questions than answers. But what did that really mean? Ginny was certain that Harry would have stopped her and Ron from joining up if he'd harbored any serious concerns about the Auror organization. Instead, he'd been quietly supportive, but kept his distance. Ginny wasn't sure if that was for his own benefit or hers and Ron's. But now, it was staring him in the face again and Ginny felt responsible.

She cast around for something to say. Blurting out what she was thinking – asking Harry if he missed the Aurors – didn't seem wise, especially when she wasn't sure if their conversation might be overheard. He was still and tense next to her, and his hesitance to move beyond the tiny squares of floor he'd apparently carved out as safe caused Ginny to freeze there too. One of the other washers buzzed, and Ginny's head automatically turned in that direction. Maybe because she'd just seen one, but the small gray and white striped paper bag seemed to jump out at her from its crumpled spot next to her laundry basket. Ginny rubbed her temples, trying to remember. Harry noticed.

He touched her hand, which was still massaging her head. "Are you okay? Is it the potion?" He glanced down at her, as if to confirm that Ginny still had her clothes on. Ginny shook her head.

"No, I feel fine," she said. "It's that paper bag there. I know I just saw one like it, but I can't remember where." She looked at Harry. "I know I shouldn't grab it, but do you think it would be safe to levitate it to us if we don't touch it?"

Harry nodded. "I think so," he said. "Are you sure it's something important?"

Ginny carefully said the levitation spell and the paper floated through the air.

"No," she admitted. "But it's tickling my mind."

Harry made a sound of understanding. "You're thinking like an Auror," he said. "In a good way, I mean."

"Is there a bad way?" Ginny asked, before she could stop herself.

Harry seemed nonplussed by the suggestion. "Yeah, sometimes," he shrugged. "As I think you know." He didn't say anything else, and after a second, Ginny leaned forward to look at the paper frozen in the air in front of them.

Harry peered at it too. "Something's written on it," he said. "But I don't think it's English." He looked closer. "Is that Russian, do you think?"

"What?" Ginny started to step closer but before she could move, Harry reached out and held her back. "Don't touch it," he said sharply. Then he sagged. "Sorry. I didn't mean to . . . I know you know that." He dropped his hand. "Sorry," he said again.

Ginny pulled back. "But sometimes I'm impulsive," she said. "So thank you."

Harry harrumphed. "And sometimes I'm overprotective."

"You've not been with me," Ginny pointed out. She gave him a pointed look. "Or have you?"

"Nooo," Harry said slowly. "I don't think so. But you're not . . . I mean, no." He shook his head. "I haven't, I don't think."

Ginny couldn't help but notice that Harry had twice said he didn't think he'd been overprotective about her. Did that mean he'd maybe done something that _could _be considered overprotective? Ginny wracked her brain but couldn't really come up with anything specific. Talking to her about Dam didn't count and she said so out loud.

Harry gave a weak chuckle. "You had Dam sorted almost immediately, I didn't have to say anything." He rocked back on his heels, his nervous gesture. "No, it's nothing like that. I've been careful not to, umm, interfere, haven't I?" He looked at her, eyes serious.

Ginny guessed they were talking about the Aurors again. She nodded. "You have," she said. A millions questions swirled in her head and she wished she could just draw on some of her impulsivity and blurt them out. But Harry seemed determined to talk in circles right now, and really, given that they were currently trapped in a possibly booby-trapped basement right now, it wasn't the time to delve deeper into what he meant anyway.

"Do you think we can enlarge it?" she said instead, nodding at the paper bag. She now recognized it as coming from the apothecary she and Ron had visited the day before. Handwritten pencil scratchings covered one corner; it looked like letters and words, but none that Ginny could decipher.

Harry nodded. "I think that's okay," he said.

The words didn't make any more sense once they were bigger, but Ginny agreed with Harry's assessment. "I think they're Russian," she said. "Ron and I ran into those Bellows sisters yesterday in that apothecary at the entrance to Knockturn Alley. The bought something in a bag like this. Ron thought they were all speaking Russian."

"All?" Harry was rotating the bag slowly in the air, looking for any other identifying marks. "I thought it was just Katerina and Nadia."

"And Zoya," said Ginny. "The youngest."

"Do you remember what they bought?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "The shopkeeper said something about Baobob sap and lilac powder. And something called . . . crocus . . . something."

"Savitus," said Harry grimly. "That's the compulsive element. The other ingredients would be to cause the specific thing meant to be compelled." He wrinkled his forehead in thought. "Baobob sap can raise body temperature. Mixed with other ingredients, it would make someone want to cool off by taking off their clothes. The Aurors would know more."

"You know a lot," said Ginny. She felt a little overwhelmed. "Did you learn all of that just last year?"

Harry gave her a guarded look. "You'll learn it too, most of it," he said. "But, some things I picked up . . . elsewhere."

Ginny nodded. "And did you . . .?" she began. Then she remembered something more important. "Oh, Zoya!" She turned excitedly to Harry. "She was the person Ron heard talking to . . ." at the last minute, Ginny choked back the rest of her words and looked at Harry, eyes wide.

"They can't hear," he said, low in her ear. "At least . . . they shouldn't be able to." He glanced quickly around, frowning. "But, yeah, I got it." He looked pensive. "I don't think . . ." He stopped again. "You should send a message to Camilla and Bram, and another to Robards. Tell them what you know."

Ginny knew that Harry knew she didn't yet know how to send the individual Patronus messages, but she also understood why Harry wouldn't offer to do it himself. She raised her wand. "Show me how?" she asked.

She didn't know what kind of reaction to expect when she sent messages telling her supervisors to look for Zoya Bellows as the source of the potion, but she certainly couldn't have predicted that Robards would gasp and bluster and then mutter a curse that made even Ginny's ears burn. He ended the conversation abruptly, asking Ginny to stay put with a request that sounded more like an order. "Potter too," he added before the connection broke. They didn't have long to wonder what was going on; only minutes later Camilla and Bram burst into the laundry room, a squirming Zoya between them. She was yelling in Russian and shot Ginny a look of pure venom.

"You really do think you're better than everyone else, don't you?" she asked. When Ginny didn't bother answering, the woman turned next to Harry. "It was all in good fun you know. No one could be harmed."

"Oh really?" asked Camilla. Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she held up a camera. "And what did you intend to do with a bunch of photos of naked Quidditch players? You captured some of the regular tenants too, you know."

Next to Ginny, Harry groaned. "Ron was home," he said under his breath. Ginny bit back a snort. "I'm sure Hermione appreciated that," she muttered back. Harry knocked his hip against hers and chuckled.

"She writes for one of those news rags," said Bram. "And freelances for the Prophet. Her specialty is celebrity gossip. We think she was trying to drum up a more exciting story."

He looked at Zoya. "I'm taking you straight to Gawain Robards; he wants to talk to you about your agreement, and I suggest you not try anything with him. He won't tolerate it." Camilla let go of Zoya's arm and conjured a magical binding. She glanced at Harry and Ginny and then exchanged a long look with Bram. "I got it," she said briskly.

Bram readjusted his grip on Zoya. "We're running out of Bellows sisters to ban from this building," he said, turning on the spot. Ginny couldn't be sure, but she heard Zoya mutter something as she disappeared.

"I really need to learn Russian," she said to Harry.

In the end, Camilla didn't talk to Harry and Ginny for very long at all. Ginny got the impression that there were a lot of things the senior Auror wanted to say – and questions she wanted to ask – but something was holding her back. Next to her, Harry was nearly silent, shrugging his shoulders a lot, and only speaking to tell her that it had been Ginny who'd figured out Zoya was an imposter and Ginny who'd recognized the importance of the apothecary bag. The first statement was not entirely true; they'd both realized something was off at nearly the same time, but she didn't correct him. The adrenaline of the past hour was draining away, and Ginny was suddenly exhausted. After agreeing to have yet another meeting with Robards and the others to debrief the situation, the woman pointed her wand at the laundry bin Zoya had brought and it disappeared with a pop. "I'm going to the office," she said. She looked at Ginny. "Stay . . . available tonight, in case there are questions." She didn't look at Harry.

Ginny nodded. "Of course," she said. With a final sigh, Camilla turned on the spot.

In the silence that followed, Ginny felt nearly as loathe to speak as Harry did. But now he seemed to want to talk. "You did everything right," he said as they slowly walked to the lifts. He'd insisted on first sending her washing out to the real Suds and Spells, assuring Ginny that it would all be delivered back to her within the hour. "They can't find fault with it." Unspoken was the understanding that someone would probably try to find fault with Ginny's actions anyway. She sighed. "What about the fact that I was with you?" she asked.

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Well, there's that," he allowed. "But we can't help it if we were in the laundry room at the same time, can we? We both need to do our wash."

"And both just happen to be there at the same time some crazy fan tries to sneak in – again," said Ginny with a touch of sarcasm. "Because no one's going to think that's a total coincidence at all."

"Let's just hope that Robards is better at keeping Zoya under control now that's she's the one who's been caught."

"Do you think that's what he was trying to do when Ron overheard them?"

Harry nodded. "I bet she'd found something out – some little piece of gossip – and was planning to write another article."

"Like the fact I was being hauled in front of all the Senior Aurors to talk about the last attempted break-in?"

Harry nodded. "That could be it. Zoya certainly knew what happened to her sister, and I bet she was trying to find out anything else she could." He knocked his hip against Ginny's. "But isn't it a little dramatic to say you were being 'hauled in?' I know I'm not always . . . enthusiastic about my time with the Aurors, but you shouldn't always listen to me anyway." His tone was mild, but Ginny understood. She knocked her hip back.

"So I should only listen to you sometimes?" she said lightly. Harry smiled. "Something like that."

"I'll have to figure out how to know when you say something important then," said Ginny. "It may take some investigation." She let her voice take on an even more teasing tone. "I guess I can try to clear my schedule, come follow the Arrows on their next road trip. You know, in case you say something I need to hear."

Harry looked like he was about to say something, then stopped. Instead, he smiled again. "I'll be sure to warn you first." He punched the button for the lift and gestured when the door opened. "After you?"

The aftermath of Zoya Bellows' antics was still in evidence upstairs. It looked as if most of the Arrows, as well as Ron, had been affected by her potion. The hallway was scattered with discarded clothing and several St. Mungo's medi-witches walked back and forth in front of a number of seated figures, each of whom was wearing what appeared to be a magically tied white bathrobe. Adam Ramsey and Kipling Cross were sitting quietly next to two reserve players Ginny didn't know well, but Dam and Ron still clawed with frustration at the front of their robes, trying to get them open. One of the medi-witches shot a spell at each of them, and their hands dropped. The witch caught sight of Harry and Ginny and grimaced. "We had to send the rest to St. Mungo's. Too much potion got absorbed into their skin and has to be flushed out overnight. The rest should be okay here, although I wouldn't let these two," - she nodded at Ron and Dam – "out in public tonight. They're still liable to try to strip, and I saw quite a few photographers outside when I arrived."

Ron looked up at Harry and Ginny. His hands tangled aimlessly with the tie on his robe, but he seemed more under control now. "She put the most potion on our door," he said. "Apparently, the Prophet offered her quite a bit of money for an article and accompanying photos of Harry Potter's bits."

Next to Ron, Dam chuckled. "From what I've heard, it's not just the Prophet that's put a bounty on those bits. There are any number of witches downstairs who were waiting quite eagerly, once news broke that they might get the chance to see Harry naked. Katerina was about ready to start selling tickets."

"And they think that's a funny joke?" said Ginny hotly. "Or do you?" she rounded on Dam. "I know being a Quidditch star means giving up some measure of privacy, but that's just going too far. No one should be able to see Harry naked unless he wants to show them himself, and so far, he doesn't want to!" Her sense of injustice riled up, it took Ginny a moment to realize exactly what she'd said. Dam barked a laugh and said something about how he, personally, didn't mind showing off his bits in the right circumstances, and Ron rolled his eyes at her, but Ginny didn't really care what they thought. She turned to Harry.

"I'm sorry, that was out of line," she said. "I didn't mean to speak for you."

To her relief, Harry chuckled. "You tend to do that a lot, don't you? Like with that reporter at the press conference?" He touched her arm. "I don't mind. I . . . like that you're looking out for me. Merlin knows I can't always do it for myself."

Ginny didn't think she should be let off so easily. "Yeah, but it's not my business who you want to show your umm, you know." she flushed. "Or when. I need to do better at thinking before I speak."

"It means you think quickly on your feet," reasoned Harry. "You'll get better at editing yourself, but I hope you never hold back when you have something important to say. Besides," he gave a gentle smirk, "you weren't really off on your assessment. There's been no one – yet – I've wanted to share that kind of thing with." He sighed and glanced at the Arrows' captain.

"Dam still giving you a hard time about that then?" She asked quietly. Down the hall, the medi-witches were helping up the players and escorting them back to their flats.

"I don't think he'll stop until that poster in my flat changes," said Harry. "I'm getting better at rolling my eyes and not letting it bother me so much though." He looked down at Ron. "Should we agree to take responsibility for him?"

Ginny nodded. "He seems to be calming down. Let's get him inside." She looked at her brother. "Where's Hermione?"

Ron groaned. "Had to work late. Figures. Tonight would have been a great time to try . . ."

"Okay mate, that's enough," said Harry. He hauled Ron to his feet. "Save whatever you were going to say for your girlfriend." He looked at Ginny. Are you coming?

Ginny hesitated. "Actually, I'm going to go back to my flat. I want to write up my memories of what happened before they fade. I'm sure someone's going to ask me about it tomorrow. Will you be okay?"

Harry nodded. "I'll make some food," he said. "That should distract him."

"I'm right here," said Ron petulantly. "You can ask me if I'm hungry."

"Okay Ron," said Harry with exaggerated patience. "Are you hungry?"

Ron nodded. "Of course I am. What do we have to eat?" He gave Ginny a quick hug. "I'll see you in the morning? Maybe even early enough to walk to work with you?"

"I'll believe it when I see it," said Ginny. She looked at Harry. "Let me know if you need help."

"I will," said Harry. "And will you let me know if . . . if you hear anything? From work, I mean."

Ginny hid her surprise. "Of course," she said. "I promise."

Harry gave her a smile. "Thanks."


	14. Sober Confession

A/N: I have nothing to say about this chapter other than I hope it's at least partially satisfying to all you patient readers. If it's not completely satisfying, well then, that was on purpose. :) I've also been really pushing to get it finished, and any typos are my own and will be fixed as soon as I have time for another reread.

HPHPHP

To Ginny's (and she suspected, Harry's) immense relief, neither that night's Evening Prophet nor the bigger edition the following morning contained a story about Zoya's break-in. Whether Robards had succeeded and keeping her quiet, or the woman simply didn't want to write a story highlighting her own missteps, Ginny didn't know, but it was a pleasant surprise the next morning, to not have that to worry about.

Another pleasant surprise was that Ron made good on his promise to wake up in time to walk with her to the Ministry. He'd finally thrown off the last effects of the potion and was berating himself for being so effected by it in the first place.

"Harry was able to prevent taking off his clothes," Ron grumbled as they walked. He'd brought coffee for the both of them and the steam was so thick it almost obscured his features.

Ginny gave him a sympathetic smile. "Harry only touched the handle of the laundry bin," she pointed out. "And like you said, Zoya had put the most potion on the door knob to your flat. I bet even Harry wouldn't have been immune to that."

"Maybe," said Ron doubtfully. He sighed. "Although, it's probably a good thing he wasn't upstairs. Photos of a naked Harry Potter would have been plastered all over England for months. He'd have hated that."

Ginny snorted. "And you wouldn't?"

Ron shrugged, a little sheepishly. "I don't think my bits are quite as newsworthy. I wouldn't have minded a _little _attention. I think she got some good ones of Dam though."

"Hmmm," said Ginny. "And Camilla and Bran know this?"

Ron nodded. "They confiscated the camera, but aren't sure if Zoya was able to send any of the pictures away first. I'm actually supposed to be working on tracking that down with Camilla later. For my fieldwork. She asked me last night."

Ginny nodded. "That's great, Ron. She's a really good Auror." Ginny didn't say so, but she liked Camilla Stalk all the better because she seemed fairly disinterested in Harry and what he might be useful for to the Aurors. And she treated Ginny like all the other trainees. This trait alone was enough to make Ginny appreciate her.

"I wonder what your assignment will be," said Ron. He gave her a sidelong glance that Ginny had no trouble interpreting.

"You mean, while the rest of you are off interviewing fan-witches they're going to send me to dig up a new Horcrux or something." She was only half joking.

Ron matched her tone. "Maybe not a Horcrux your first time. A cursed mirror or something, sure."

Ginny leaned into her brother. "I'm glad you're in training with me."

Ron threw his arm around her. "I'm glad too," he said.

Copernicus, Lee, Angelina, and Parvati were already in the training room when Ron and Ginny arrived, which is why she suspected that Gawain did no more than raise his eyebrows at her when she took her seat. No one else said anything, and she relaxed a little bit, happy to avoid being the center of attention for once.

The rest of the class arrived shortly thereafter, and Camilla Stalk bustled in with several other Senior Aurors. She began issuing assignments for their fieldwork in her no-nonsense voice, sending Angelina and Query Plath to a local public school attended by several young Muggleborns.

"They likely don't know they're wizards yet," she cautioned as she handed them a parchment with their exact assignment. "So please use discretion."

Ernie and Lee were going with Bramley Rhodes to visit several shops in Paranorm Alley that were suspected of selling particularly dangerous dark items; the dangerous nature of their assignment warranted the assistance of a full-Auror.

"And Ginny," said Camilla. "You and Ron are . . ." She frowned at parchment list in her hands for a second and then glanced quickly at Robards. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Camilla cleared her throad. "I mean, Ron is coming with me. We have some . . . sensitive photos to trace. Ginny, you will be going with Gawain to a . . ."

"To a sporting camp for underprivileged magical youth," said Gawain brusquely. "We've had reports of . . . unusual things happening there." He fixed Ginny with a stare. She looked back at him frankly, wondering exactly what it was in her thoughts he was looking for. She forced her mind as blank as possible, and after a minute, her boss looked away. "Not bad, Weasley," she heard him mutter. Ginny felt Ron shuffling next to her, but she carefully did not catch his eye; there was no reason for anyone to know she suspected her assignment was unusual.

The group broke up into their various pairings and groups, and Ginny walked briskly over to the head Auror. "I'm ready, sir," she said firmly. "Anything I need to know before we go?"

Robards shook his head. "They will be others there in charge of the program," he said. "You're just to interact with the children and let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious."

"Suspicious in what way?" asked Ginny. "Are these older kids? The type of gang that admires the former Death Eaters and thinks it's a lark to try to emulate them?" That sort of thing had been a problem almost since the day Harry had banished Voldemort. The romanticizing of something so evil baffled Ginny, but then, so did the decision to follow Voldemort in the first place. Still, they had learned in training that most of the gangs were more bark than bite, and usually not particularly strong magically. She wondered why someone as senior as Robards would bother with such a task.

But he shook his head before grabbing her upper arm. "You'll see," he said, before turning with her on the spot.

The area they appeared in was, in Ginny's opinion, the epitome of "underprivileged". Small, sad looking row houses separated by muddy lanes stretched away from a dirty and trash-filled river. In the distance, the silhouette of a smokestack pointed accusingly into the sky.

"Spinners End," said Robards, pointing at what seemed to be the main road. "There's a field just up the road where the camp is."

The name was vaguely familiar to Ginny, but she couldn't place why. She certainly couldn't remember ever being here before; it seemed like the type of place where the sky was always gray.

"Are there a lot of magical families here?" she finally asked. It seemed a safe, and relevant thing to want to know.

Robards gave her an approving look. "A right few," he said. He pointed to the sluggish river. "Severus grew up just down the road here."

"Snape?" asked Ginny. That might of explained why the name was familiar, but she couldn't really remember ever having talked about where her former Potions teacher grew up. "What a depressing place."

"It is," agreed Robards. "And depressing surroundings breed discontent, and discontent can breed . . . well, we'll see." He didn't say any more, and after another couple minutes of walking, Ginny heard the sounds of excited shouting and youthful voices. They cleared the last row of houses and came out on a rather bedraggled field that had been set up to look like a Quidditch pitch. Ginny could just sense the wards that protected the space from Muggle eyes, where several dozen children in a variety of exercise clothing were doing jumping jacks, following a perky looking woman wearing the replica Arrows' training jersey favored by a lot of fans. She was calling out moves one after the other and the children were huffing and groaning, but all seemed to be trying to keep up as the woman had them jog in place next.

A movement overhead made Ginny look up, but she had to stare for longer that she probably should have to understand what she was seeing.

"Is that . . . ? What . . . why are the Arrows here?" she finally asked. For there was no mistaking the matched brooms and red and blue practice uniforms, not to mention Harry's familiar form, racing Dam and the others across the pitch.

"Oh, didn't I mention it? The Arrows are volunteering their time, helping with the camp. It's excellent publicity."

Ginny knew Robards didn't believe for a second that he'd forgotten to mention this important detail. She wondered if he'd thought she wouldn't come if she'd known. She glanced again at the sky. Or maybe Robards thought that Ginny would have warned Harry? Maybe both, but she'd be damned if she let the man know she was anything but delighted at the arrangement. She looked around the pitch. Now that she was paying attention, she realized that many of the adults were wearing Arrows gear. A few were laying out brooms and moving around crates of balls while others were setting up what seemed to be an obstacle course.

The woman leading the exercises finished her routine, and shot sparks into the air with her wand. Almost immediately, the Arrows began landing, spreading out in pairs on either side of her, facing the children. Now that they weren't moving, Ginny could see that they were young; most didn't even look to be of Hogwarts age. They were all wiggling with excitement, though. Ginny had to smile as she watched them whisper to each other as their eyes darted back and forth at the players standing before them. Harry was watching the kids with an indulgent smile on his face; she even saw him wave in response to one very small girl in the first row. Dam was preening, making the children laugh with his antics and the twins were taking turns doing back flips in place; the entire atmosphere was light-hearted and fun and carried with it not even a hint of evil.

Ginny wasn't sure if Harry knew she was there, but as the Arrows' trainer began dividing the children up and assigning them to different pairs of players, he looked over and saw her, standing next to Robards. There was no mistaking the look of surprise that flashed over his face, but a second later it was gone, replaced by a friendly smile. He said something to Dam, his partner, and pointed at her before jogging over.

"Ginny, hi, I didn't know you'd be here!" Harry's voice was light and open. "And Gawain, it's nice to see you again." Harry's voice wasn't quite as friendly as he spoke to his former boss but it held no animus.

Robards' voice was equally light. "Thought it would be a good opportunity for Miss Weasley here," he said. "All the trainees are in the field today. This should appeal to her athletic nature." He turned to Ginny. "You must miss Quidditch, don't you?"

Swiftly, Ginny parsed his question for any underlying meaning before cautiously nodding. "I do," she finally admitted. "I haven't had much time to fly since I started training."

Robards slapped her on the back. "Well then, you'll have to get up there," he said. "The Arrows brought plenty of brooms and I'm sure Potter here will let you tag along, isn't that right?"

"Of course," said Harry. He raised his eyebrows. "But you said she was here as part of her training? What exactly do you want her to do while she's in the air? For the Aurors, I mean." Harry's voice held only the barest hint of curiosity, but Ginny wasn't fooled. She knew Robards wasn't either. Still, he told Harry what he wanted to know.

"Nothing too complicated; nothing a trainee can't handle. Especially not one as savvy and experienced as Miss Weasley."

Ginny inclined her head at the compliment, unsurprised. After a moment, Robards continued.

"There has been an uptick in dark magical signatures in this area; Miss Weasley merely needs to get to know the children and then keep her ears open. They'll often talk about what's going on at home, even if they don't understand it."

"And you set wards to detect dark magic performed in the area why, because these people are poor?" Harry's voice was measured and calm, but Ginny heard the warning in it. "My mum grew up not far from here. They didn't have a lot of money, but they were good people."

Ginny didn't show her surprise at Harry's revelation, but she suddenly recalled overhearing a conversation between Harry and her brother and Hermione. Harry's mother had known Snape as a child, before coming to Hogwarts. Ginny looked around again with a more critical eye. Harry's mother's sacrifice was almost legend, and Ginny knew she'd been Head Girl in her Seventh Year, plus a member of the Order. Ginny knew better than most that money didn't dictate a person's morals, but she couldn't deny that living here, poor, would have been tougher than her life at the Burrow.

"We set wards here because it's been proven, time and time again, that our search will yield fruit," said Robards firmly. "No other reason." He looked at Ginny. "You'll let me know if you hear anything suspicious?

Ginny was struck by the fact that Robards didn't deny setting detection wards. She wanted to ask if they also had them set in places like Wiltshire, home of Malfoy Manor, but she knew the answer, and it wasn't worth raising her boss' ire over the issue. Detection wards, like Legilimency, weren't illegal, although Ginny was beginning to wonder just how close and often the Aurors got to that line. She nodded. "I will, sir."

It was wonderful to be in the air again. She teamed up with Harry and Dam to work with a group of children who already had some flying experience. They raced back and forth, took them through the obstacle course, and tossed a couple of Quaffles back and forth. The children were boisterous but mostly attentive; once Harry had to chase down a girl who'd started flying too high and Ginny had to remind two boys that "Quaffles aren't Bludgers". Otherwise, they had a great time.

Harry and Dam took their group to the luncheon set up on long tables at one end of the pitch while Ginny took the equipment back to the Arrows staff. Robards came up to her as she wrestled the Quaffle into its box and latched it shut.

"You looked good up there," he said. "You're really a natural."

Ginny smiled. "Thank you. I love to fly."

Robards nodded. "I can tell. Did you ever consider a career in professional Quidditch? Not that we'd want to lose you from the Aurors, of course. But . . . past experiences have made us wary." He glanced down the pitch.

Ginny kept fiddling with the lock on the box while she answered. "No sir, Quidditch has never been more than a . . . hobby for me. And anyway, I'm not good enough to play professionally." She hoped he couldn't hear the lie in his voice. Not even her parents knew about the talks she'd had with the Harpies. It had been fun to fanaticize about, but Ginny hadn't let it get any further than that. She was singular in her determination to be an Auror and that was that.

"You kept up with Potter up there," said Robards. "But like I said, we're glad to have you here instead."

"Thank you," said Ginny. The man was obviously leading up to something. She hadn't learned much about him yet, but she recognized that tough questions always followed compliments.

She was not wrong. "So, what sort of suspicious activities did you witness up there?" he asked bluntly.

Ginny noticed immediately that Robards' question assumed she had something to report. It was with more than a little satisfaction that she could truthfully tell her boss that nothing at all had struck her as off. She even laughed, relating the way two brothers had taken the mickey out of Harry, calling him a tosser for playing for the Arrows. They'd all had a bit of fun at Harry's expense and the youths had taken turns racing Harry to the ground in a modified (safer) version of the Wronski Feint.

But Robards didn't laugh. "Which boys were these?" he asked peering down at where kids and players were now spread out, sitting on blankets to each lunch. He began walking in that direction and Ginny had to almost jog to keep up.

"The ones in green, why?" she asked.

"Harry's too famous, too popular," he said. "These kids, they should be worshipping him." They'd reached the other end of the pitch and Robards stood and surveyed the crowd. "He vanquished Voldemort, which led to the dismantling of the entire network of Death Eaters; he made all our lives muchsafer. Anyone who values light over dark should understand that."

Robards related Harry's accomplishments almost impatiently. In someone else, Ginny might have thought it showed jealousy over the attention Harry got. But now Ginny knew her boss well enough to recognize the impatience in his tone. He had little tolerance for those who didn't eschew Dark Magic at every turn, and it showed in every action. But these kids weren't evil, and Ginny said so. Robards just shook his head.

"I wouldn't be so certain, Miss Weasley. I've seen it before. They came here wearing green - Slytherin's color. And on top of that, the fact that they are disparaging Harry, and to his face, no less, suggests they're mimicking attitudes learned at home.. That isn't as concerning as . . . well, never mind, but it's still something we need to investigate." He pulled small pouch out of his robes. "They trust you. A small sprinkle of this on the ice cream they're about to eat, and I'll be able to ask a few relevant questions. Assess the danger. It will be a good observations opportunity for you."

Ginny stared at him. "You want me to give two little boys truth serum because they've teased Harry about playing for the Arrows?" She didn't bother to keep the incredulity out of her voice. "They're wearing green because they follow Norwich City; if my brother Ron was here, he'd be wearing orange for the Cannons and probably giving Harry an equally hard time; its what Quidditch fans do." She crossed her arms. "I'm not doing it. I know you're my boss, but no. When I was at Hogwarts that Umbridge bitch tried slipping Veritaserum into our tea to learn our secrets, and worse. Harry's still got the scars on his hand, have you seen them?" Ginny had managed to avoid the woman's more sadistic methods of detection, but the twenty minutes she'd spent in Umbridge's office refusing tea had been some of the most uncomfortable moments of her time at school (her entire First Year excepted, of course).

"Now, Ginny, calm down," said Robards. "It's nothing like Veritaserum." He shook the bag. "This is nothing stronger than they type of thing parents use on their own children to discover if they're lying about coming home late or who ate the last piece of pie. I just need to know if there's talk at home about Harry, and what might be said. Then we'll know to keep an extra eye on the family. Nothing more."

Ginny shook her head again. "If you want to keep an eye on the family because they aren't Arrows' fans, that's your business, but I daresay, if not supporting the team Harry Potter plays for is what qualifies someone as possibly harboring dark interests, you'll be keeping an eye on half of England. Anyone who's a true fan wouldn't have switched allegiances just because he joined a particular team. But I'm sorry, sir, I don't see that as justifying further investigation on _children._" Ginny forced herself not to show her nerves. Disagreeing with her boss like this could get her kicked off the Aurors. But she stood her ground.

Robards opened his mouth to answer, and then suddenly the tense look on his face relaxed. "Maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe I'm being a little too . . . distrustful here." He gave her a small smile. "I don't really follow Quidditch; I don't quite understand these things. It can wait. We can mark down the family for follow up, but only . . . well, we'll keep an eye on them." He made to stow the vial back in his robes.

Ginny couldn't understand Robards abrupt change of position until a familiar voice spoke up behind her.

"She's not so malleable either, is she, Gawain?" Harry came up beside her, a grim smile on his face. Robards nodded.

"Harry. Miss Weasley was just educating me on the common behaviors of Quidditch fans."

"I heard," said Harry. "Ginny's right, you know. There's nothing here of concern."

Robards shook his head. "I wouldn't be so sure. We've had reports . . ." he stopped. "But I can't tell you now, can I? You aren't with the Aurors anymore."

Harry shrugged. "That's right, I'm not. But when I was, you know how I felt about . . . preemptive investigation." He put a hand on Ginny's arm. "She seems to feel the same way."

Ginny didn't exactly understand what Harry was saying, but she kept quiet and watched her boss. He shook his head again. "I respect Miss Weasley's assessment of the matter right now, yes." _He was complimenting her again, _she noted. "She's seen rather more . . . excitement than a normal trainee has, and always with you, Potter. Interesting." Robards' voice was measured and even; he didn't give anything away. "But despite what she, or you, believe, I happen to understand the position a bit better than either of you. This neighborhood bears more investigation, and I would be derelict in my duties as Head Auror if I didn't follow up." He looked at Ginny. "You'll need more training, of course, but I expect you'll want to continue helping investigate here. I can assure you, we won't base our activities on anyone's preferences for Quidditch teams."

It felt almost as if Robards was asking her to declare her loyalties. Next to her, Ginny felt Harry shift, but he kept quiet.

"If not for Harry's knowledge, I would have been affected by the potion too," she said quietly. "But yes, I'd like to keep investigating Dark Magic. It's why I'm an Auror. And I appreciate your . . . interest in my education." She hoped her statements were equally equivocal to both.

Robards barked a laugh. "Very good, Miss Weasley. He waved her away. "I'll expect a report about what you didn't find here on my desk tomorrow morning." He fixed her with a stare. "As well as a second report about your run-in with Miss Bellows. Which one was it, Zoya?" He shook his head. "I can't keep them all straight."

Ginny didn't believe that for a second, but she nodded. "Yes, sir," she said.

Robards nodded. "Harry here can help you, he was there for both." He inclined his head. "That is, if he doesn't mind doing you a favor."

"I don't mind," said Harry quickly. "If Ginny doesn't."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't mind either." She couldn't help but wondering exactly who'd come out ahead here.

Robards nodded. "Tomorrow morning, then," he said. "I'd better go get my own reports in. See you tomorrow, Miss Weasley." He took two steps and then turned on the spot.

Harry's voice was low in her ear. "Are you okay? I heard what you said to him. Thank you."

Ginny looked at Harry. "What exactly are you thanking me for?"

Harry was quiet for a second, thinking. "I have to finish up here, but then . . . can I come to your flat later?"

Ginny nodded. "It will give me time for a run. And to pick up some food for dinner."

Harry gave her a quick smile. "Perfect."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny refrained from asking her mum for food; the woman had fed her three times this week and Ginny was beginning, just barely, to feel guilty about it. Not guilty enough to try to cook for herself, but the takeaway she picked up was at least paid for with her own money.

Harry arrived before six, looking as freshly showered as Ginny. He plopped comfortably onto the sofa next to her and took up a plate of food.

"I didn't know your mum was cooking Italian now," he said with a smirk.

Ginny swatted him. "Prat. I'm perfectly capable of . . . ordering in my own dinner."

Harry laughed and they ate cin ompanionable silence for a while. Only when the dishes had been banished to the sink and the leftovers put in the icebox did the conversation begin again.

Ginny was heartened to see that Harry was ready to be rather more open.

"I was all alone, when I worked for the Aurors," he said flatly. "In between helping rebuild Hogwarts, of course." He played with a knitted blanket that hung over the back of the sofa. "I didn't have a training class, or any training at all, so to speak. It was . . . disconcerting to realize that the fact of my killing Voldemort made everyone assume I was ready to handle . . . everything." He looked up at her, eyes wide. "I was barely eighteen; I'd only fought Voldemort because I had no choice, and people expected me to behave like a fully trained Auror." He shook his head. "I spent every free second trying to figure out how not to make a complete bollocks of things." He gave a grim chuckle. "I even spent a lot of time in the library. Hermione was so proud."

Ginny hadn't known any of this. "I assumed, like everyone else I guess, that you knew exactly what you were doing," she said softly. "I'm sorry if I added to the pressure.

Harry smiled at her. "I still annoyed you then, didn't I? I remember. It was kind of refreshing."

Ginny snorted. "I think I called you an arse for coming in late to a family supper and almost knocking me out of the way to sit next to Ron."

"Hey, it meant I got to sit next to you too, didn't it?" Harry sighed. "You saw a little bit today, what their attitudes were and what they wanted me to do."

Ginny frowned. "Interviewing kids?"

"Looking everywhere, and I mean _everywhere_, for suspicions of dark magic. The other Aurors handled the known Death Eaters, but Robards and Kane and a few others thought that my close connection to Voldemort would make it more likely that I'd be able to uncover dark tendencies in people that weren't so . . . obvious."

"Ohhhh," Ginny let out a breath. It all made more sense now. "Robards thinks the same about me, I think." A sudden clap of thunder outside made her jump. "Looks like the storm is finally here," she said. Her windows rattled as the wind hit them. She pulled down the blanket Harry was fiddling with and covered her lap. "Do you want some too?" she asked. "I'm suddenly cold."

Harry nodded and pulled part of the blanket over himself. He picked up the thread of conversation. "You were possessed by Voldemort too; he thinks that might give you the same special insight." Harry put his hand briefly on hers. "And the reason I didn't tell you before is . . . well, I'm sorry about that. At first, I wasn't sure, and then, I'll admit, I didn't want to think too much about it. You've been handling yourself so well; you didn't need my assistance. I don't want to interfere with your training, and if Robards thought I was . . . well then he might treat you even more differently." Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Not to mention, he might pressure you even more to come back," said Ginny bluntly. "I mean, it's almost comedic how many times you and I have ended up embroiled in something. He must be waiting for an opportunity to really put the pressure on." Outside the wind picked up. Ginny shifted on the sofa, cuddling deeper into the blanket. "I need to have someone look at my windows," she said. "They are kind of drafty."

Harry nodded. "Vincent handles maintenance for the building. He's good." He picked at the blanket. "You're right, of course. I think Robards is waiting for me to want to come back. I can't see that happening. Not now at least. Although . . ." His voice took on an odd timbre as it died away.

Ginny was a little drowsy. "What is it, Harry?" she asked.

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "It's just . . ." he began. "Umm." He looked down. "Did you realize . . .?" He breathed out. "Hell."

Ginny roused a little bit. She looked at him. "Harry, what's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he mumbled. "But . . . for the last few minutes. You've been . . . holding my hand." He looked her in the eye. "Did you know that?"

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry held his breath. He'd almost not said anything, almost just carefully slipped his hand out of Ginny's and hoped she didn't notice. And then they could have gone on as usual, for her at least. But she'd held his hand – unknowingly, it seemed – and Harry wanted to know why.

She was quiet for a second, staring at their twined fingers. And then she gave an embarrassed chuckle and jerked her hand in his. "I'm sorry, I didn't . . ." she began.

Harry grasped her hand tightly and didn't let her pull away. "Wait," he said. He looked Ginny in the face. "Wait. Please. I need to . . . tell you something."

She looked back at him; he could tell she was slightly confused, but apparently willing to play along. "Okay," she said. She gave him a sudden grin. "Is this the kind of discussion we need to have a drink for?"

Harry blew out a breath and gave her a sheepish smile. "Yeah, probably," he said.

Ginny picked up her wand and summoned her bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses. She didn't say anything while she poured them each a healthy shot, but when she raised her drink, she gave Harry a questioning look. "Uhh, Cheers? Or maybe, here's to late night confessions?"

Her tone was still light and casual; Harry knew she had no idea. She probably thought he was going to tell her something else about the Aurors, or maybe admit he'd kissed one of the Arrows trainers or something. He took a deep breath.

"I think it's 'here's to honesty,'" he said finally.

Ginny gave him a long look. Then she smiled. "Honesty's good," she said. "I know we've talked more in these past months than I think we have in all the years I've known you before, but sometimes I feel that every answer leads to more questions." She twisted on the sofa and put her hand on his knee. "And that's okay," she said earnestly. "I get why you haven't told me everything."

Ginny still thought they were talking about the Aurors. For a minute, Harry considered coming up with a story that matched her expectations. He'd told her some of it earlier, he could expand on that, and she wouldn't know the difference. Two months ago, he would probably have done just that; come up with some Auror-related story and lied. But now, whatever had been of Harry's schoolboy crush had morphed into something that felt a lot more believable. The fantasies he'd constructed for his morning wank had evolved from the unrealistic and fantastic ideals of a teenager –_Ginny as a mermaid swimming topless through the lake – _to something Harry knew he wanted for real. Just this morning, he'd imagined her sitting crosswise on his bed in nothing but a pair of knickers and one of his oversized practice jerseys. In his mind she'd pulled off her top and pulled him down onto the bed and what they'd done together had made him climax in his hand in seconds, all the while wishing he was collapsing on top of Ginny for a nice long nap.

It was driving him crazy.

He took a deep breath. "This isn't something about the Aurors," he said. "Although, thank you. You're right. I've told you a lot, but not everything. Not yet at least. And I appreciate your patience there." He was still holding his drink. "To honesty," he said, downing it in one gulp. Through the haze of smoke pouring out of his ears and the feeling of warmth seeping into his chest, he heard Ginny echo him. She took a smaller sip out of her own glass, making a slight grimace at the taste. "I'm still not great at drinking this stuff straight," she said.

"I got a lot better once I joined the Arrows," Harry said dryly. He sighed. "Umm, okay. Confession time." He felt heat creeping up his cheeks.

Ginny looked at him curiously. "Is that the alcohol or are you blushing? Harry?"

He blew out a breath. "Probably a little of both." He turned the glass in his hand.

"Do you need another drink before you tell me?" Ginny's voice was softer than before.

Harry forced himself to look at her. She still had her questioning look; Harry could see the little wrinkle that always formed between her eyes when she wasn't quite sure what to think. He had the sudden urge to try to smooth it out with his fingers. "I think maybe we'll both need another drink after I tell you," he said. He had to look down again.

And then Ginny's hand was on his chin, lifting it, and Harry couldn't stop the shudder than ran through him. She noticed, and her eyes opened wide.

"Ohhh," she said softly. She moved her hand down to take his again, and it was a comforting gesture. "Oh." He saw her swallow. "How long?"

Harry wasn't sure whether to be encouraged or mortified that she'd understood so quickly. He blushed for real. "Umm, Fifth Year," he admitted.

Ginny hand jerked in his again. "What?" She straightened up a little and gave him an incredulous look. "My fourth? But . . . I hated you then. That's when you forgot . . . when you said . . . at Grimmauld Place. . ." Her voice trailed away, and Harry knew she was remembering their fight. After the stress of worrying about her father had eased and Harry had confessed to thinking he'd been possessed by Voldemort, his own anxiety had clouded the fact that Ginny had experienced something equally bad, if not worse. They'd fought; at the time Harry's lingering guilt that he'd been responsible for Mr. Weasley's injury and his shame at forgetting about Ginny had led him to being unfairly defensive that she couldn't possibly realize why he was so focused only on himself. She'd shouted that he of all people should understand her, and he'd responded with a comment that still made him cringe all these years later.

"I still can't believe I told you the Chamber was your own fault." He knew he'd never be able to erase the look on Ginny's face after he'd said those words. The rest of the family had left when he and Ginny began to argue; Harry suspected that Molly had understood that this fight needed to happen in private. He hadn't shouted them, but spoken quietly, with venom, and that had made it infinitely worse. He'd apologized the next day, and again after that, and as far as he could tell, she'd never told a soul. Until recently, he didn't think she'd believed him when he told her how sorry he was.

Ginny gave him a slightly exasperated look. "You've apologized for that, Harry. Multiple times, actually." She shook her head. "I just can't believe that in the middle of all that year you decided you . . . what? Fancied me? Had a crush?" She raised her eyebrows. "Fantacized?"

Harry leaned back against the sofa. "All of them, probably." He sat back up quickly. "But the fantasies, they were totally innocent, I swear." He hoped Ginny couldn't see the lie on his face. But Ginny just laughed.

"I have brothers, Harry. I know their minds."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, okay." He swallowed. "I don't know why I started feeling . . . I mean, yeah, I knew you hated me, and you had good reason." Ginny opened her mouth to speak and Harry held up his hand. "It's okay, I know we're past that now." He closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect this thoughts.

"I don't know. Maybe at first it was because of a weird feeling of guilt or something, but I don't think so." He looked at her. "You were the only one who didn't tiptoe around me. The only one who pointed out that I was being an arse and didn't back down when I got mad." He shrugged. "I guess that deep down, I liked that about you." He blushed. "Not to mention, you were dating Corner and I happened to see the two of you kissing one day outside the Great Hall. After that I just . . . started thinking about you, I guess. Even though I wasn't sure if you hated me all over again after I almost got you killed at the Department of Mysteries." He ran his hand through his hair. The conversation had run far afield from what he'd wanted to say, about how he felt about her now. Rehashing his teenaged crush made it all sound a bit silly.

Ginny was quiet for a second. "I never actually hated you, Harry. Not really." She shrugged. "Well, maybe I did during that fight, but I got over it pretty quickly. I guess I knew you really didn't mean it." She took a sip of her whiskey, then a second, before continuing. "You irritated the fuck out of me sometimes, but I think we've previously established that that was at least equally my own fault." She shook her head. "Was this a kind of Ron and Hermione thing? That you didn't like me but fancied me at the same time?"

"No, nothing like that," said Harry quickly. "Ron and Hermione, they were . . . and are . . . well, it's different for them. I think they need to disagreements to be able to enjoy each other. You and I . . . I mean, oh hell." He grimaced. "I didn't mean to make it sound like we were already . . . you know." He looked at her. "I think our earlier relationship – whatever it was – was hurt by our misunderstandings."

"That's a nice way to put it," snorted Ginny. Her face softened. "So . . . you still have this crush on me?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry. "And . . . no." At Ginny's questioning look he hurried to explain. "It's not the same as it was before. Not at all." He leaned forward and poured himself another shot of whiskey.

Ginny quickly drained her glass and held it out. "Me too, please. A double, I think."

Harry couldn't tell from her voice what she was thinking. He poured them both Firewhiskey and they drank in silence for a couple of minutes. Harry was glad they were in her flat and not his. The wards would give them privacy for as long as they needed and he didn't have to worry about Ron coming home in the middle of their talk. He shifted on the sofa, not sure where to be. They'd been leaning up against the same pillow when this all started, and during the intervening time they had turned too look at each other and moved for the whiskey, but neither had made a purposeful attempt to separate from the other. But he couldn't see Ginny clearly without twisting his head, and it was very important to Harry that he be able to see her and her expressions. He was pretty sure he'd be able to tell, if not exactly what she was thinking, at least if she was bothered or angered, or whatever. Without stopping to think he turned his entire body sideways and scrunched one leg underneath him. The other was on the floor.

Almost immediately, Ginny mimicked Harry's movement, turning so that she was facing him, the side of her body still resting against the same pillow. She took another drink, and then nodded. "Okay then," she said. "You were saying that you don't still fancy me?" Her voice was light and curious, as if she was half expecting Harry to admit that no, he had once had a crush but certainly didn't anymore, and wasn't that something funny to laugh about now that they were friends?

"I still fancy you," he said quietly. "Just . . . not in the same way." He forced himself not to look away. "It hasn't been the same way since, well, since that first night we finally talked. After you attacked that reporter at the press conference." He gave her a point look. "After you kissed Dam."

"When we talked about our experiences, and why you irritated me so much." said Ginny.

Harry nodded. There was no going back now, he supposed. No matter what Ginny thought of him after this talk, at least he'd know that he'd been honest with her. He touched her hand. "I'm not a teenager anymore," he said. "The feelings are . . . quite different." He huffed his breath. "I'm not very good at this."

"And I'm not going to make it any easier for you," said Ginny. Her voice was serious but Harry could see the smile behind her eyes. He nodded. "And you shouldn't. I know I've rather . . . sprung this on you. Although," he continued, giving her a small grin. "You were the one who decided to hold my hand. What exactly was that about?"

Ginny made a face. "I'm . . . not sure?" she said hesitantly. She sat up straighter on the sofa. "Finish what you were going to tell me and then we can talk about that."

Her words warmed Harry more than the Firewhiskey. All of a sudden, it was the two of them, again together. It felt like the other talks they'd had these past months, when they'd admitted to each other they were virgins or when Harry had told her the truth about the Chamber. He could do this. He just wasn't sure how.

A soft touch made him look up. "You've become one of my best friends, Harry." Ginny's voice was soft. "And maybe I should be surprised that it happened so quickly, but I guess it goes to show that I was never really as irritated with you as I thought, all those years."

Harry found his voice. "I . . . I feel the same way," he said. "But, it's more too."

Ginny nodded. "I know," she said. "I can see it now." She shook her head. "I can't believe I didn't guess earlier. I'm usually really good at figuring out when one of my brothers' fancies a witch."

"I'm not one of your brothers." Harry felt that it needed to be pointed out.

Ginny understood immediately. "That's right, you're not." She cocked her head at him. "It's different then, isn't it?"

"For me it is," said Harry thickly. He knew he had to ask the question. "What about for you?"

Ginny was silent for so long Harry was pretty sure he was about to be let down as easily as she could. Finally she shook her head. "I'm . . . I'm not sure," she said in a small voice. "I didn't even realize I was holding your hand; I just knew I was really comfortable and content and happy." She looked at him. "But I don't know what that means. I mean, I just found out a couple of minutes ago about what you think."

Harry nodded. "That's fair," he said. "And if you never . . ."

"I just don't know," Ginny interrupted quickly. She looked at him, and Harry could see the honesty in her eyes. "Yet," she said. "I don't know yet. I don't want to . . . make any promises, or anything. Until I have a chance to think." She looked down, and Harry could see her hands twisting around the blanket. He touched her arm. "Hey."

"I . . . just don't want . . ." she took a deep breath and looked at him. "I guess no matter what, our friendship's going to be different for a while."

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I didn't mean to . . ."

She shook her head. "No, it's okay. I mean, it hasn't been fair to you, has it? All this time?" She gave him a small smile. "You did a good job of hiding it."

Harry grimaced. "I felt as obvious as a Bludger sometimes," he said. "Like my jealousy when you kissed Dam."

Ginny gave a small snort. "That was jealousy? I'd assumed it was you being an overprotective git."

Harry snorted back. "That too," he said. He felt the small knot of tension in his belly ease. He still didn't know exactly what else to say though. "So, umm, okay then," he finally said. "Maybe I should . . ." he gestured towards the door. "Give you some time to think." He half hoped she'd say no, that she'd ask him to stay so that she could figure things out with him there. That was totally unrealistic, of course. He was secretly proud that he understood that this revelation was going to take her some time to absorb, and that she'd not rush into anything. He had to give her space.

Ginny nodded. "I think that's best," she said. She put her hand on his arm again, and this time, his shiver made her smile wryly. "You've got it bad, Potter," she said lightly.

He nodded, relieved to see that she was trying to keep this completely un-normal experience as natural between them as possible. "I do," he admitted. "But it's not just physical. I swear."

Ginny nodded. "I know that," she said. "And I want things to be normal between us. As normal as possible anyway."

"Thank you," said Harry. "And we won't tell Ron, will we?"

"Merlin no," said Ginny. She shuddered. "Can you imagine how annoying he'd be?"

Harry grinned. "Okay then," he said. He stood up. "I guess I'll, umm, see you soon? After our road trip I guess."

Ginny nodded. "Sounds good." She walked with him to the door. "And Harry? Thank you. For letting me know." Her smile was genuine.

Harry smiled back. "I'm glad I finally did."


	15. The First Realization

A/N: Thank you for all of your thoughtful reviews! Since the moment I started writing this story, I felt very strongly about not creating a cliché "aha" moment for Ginny to realize she has feelings for Harry. That eliminated things like jealousy, surprising dreams, the emotional impact of him being in danger, etc. (all of which I've used in other stories; and they have a time and place). I really wanted to explore Ginny's subconsciously growing to care about Harry and how that might play out against her finally knowing how he's felt about her. There's not going to be an immediate resolution, but I hope it's a realistic one (Sorry, Ella. But your scenes are coming, I swear). Also, it was such a relief to finally show Harry's POV! We're going to see more of him from now on.

Ginny shut the door behind Harry and leaned against it, sliding bonelessly down to the floor. Her thoughts were swirling so quickly she didn't even know where to let them land. The bottle of Firewhiskey winked at her from her coffee table and she considered whether her arm was even steady enough to levitate it to her when she realized she'd left her wand on the sofa.

"Bugger," she said to herself.

Slowly, she got to her feet and walked the few steps to the sofa before collapsing face-first onto the cushions. She decided against another drink; this was something she needed to think about sober.

Her friendship with Harry was new enough that she was still getting to understand how he fit into her life. Now it was all changed, and Ginny felt like she was going to have to relearn how to interact with him all over again. And this time, she was going to have to do it knowing that his feelings for her were . . . what? She'd been so shocked by his revelation – not to mention the fact that she'd apparently taken it upon herself to hold his hand – that she couldn't quite remember what he'd said. The fact that he'd started to fancy her when she was fourteen and generally acting like a total brat to him was a little overwhelming. And the fact that his feelings had survived – and apparently grown – over the intervening years was . . . again, what?

Ginny eyed the bottle of firewhiskey, reconsidering another shot before sighing and sending the bottle and the two dirty glasses back to her kitchen. She needed to think about this logically.

_Did she feel about Harry the way he apparently felt about her?_

Well, no. Not right now. She'd have known if she did, and as she sat on her sofa, cushions still warm and dented from where Harry had been sitting, she was pretty confident that her shock at his admission had been genuine. But.

_Could she ever feel that way about him?_

This question gave Ginny more pause. She hadn't had a boyfriend since she and Dean had broken up her fifth year, and of the few minor flings she'd had since then, the one with Dam had gone the furthest, which was to say, not far at all. Ginny had been happy to focus on Auror training, assuming in the back of her mind that at some point, she'd meet someone to be with. She'd given no thought to whom this hypothetical boyfriend might be, or even what kind of bloke she might be looking for. She hadn't even _been_ looking. But she'd held Harry's hand. Had that been her brain unconsciously trying to tell her something, or merely a reaction to the comfort of his friendship? And how was she to figure out the difference?

A roar of noise outside drew Ginny out of her thoughts. Without even going to her window, she knew that one or more Arrows players had just left the building by the front door, and the crowd of fan-witches was reacting. She frowned at her watch; it was rather late for them to be going to a pub, and hadn't Harry said they were leaving for a road trip in the morning?

Curiosity piqued, Ginny got up and looked out her window. What looked like the entire team was making their way down the sidewalk, dressed identically in their traveling cloaks and carrying matching duffle bags. One of the coaches waited at the end of the path and seemed to be urging them along. Even with everyone dressed alike, Ginny had no trouble picking out Harry as he walked along, bag looped over his shoulder and hair still extra messy from when he'd ruffled it during their talk. He didn't stop to speak with any of the fans that lined the sidewalk, but as he got to the end, he turned around, looking up towards the apartment building.

Ginny automatically stepped away from her window, and then felt silly for her embarrassment. She could at least wave goodbye. But when she looked out again, Harry had turned away, hurrying to huddle with the rest of his team around what she suspected must be a Portkey. Several trainers stood blocking the way and Ginny could see a number of fans trying to get by, probably wanting to try to sneak onto the Portkey themselves. It wasn't the Arrows' usual method of travel, and Ginny wondered if something had happened to change their schedule. She was already halfway though the thought that she'd just send an owl to Harry later to ask before she stopped, wondering if that sort of thing was now taboo, lest it be misinterpreted.

"Bugger," she said again. She began to pace around her flat. She couldn't begrudge Harry his right to tell her the truth; that he'd kept his feelings hidden for so long without a hint to her couldn't have been easy and yet, he'd done it. It was so Harry. He wouldn't have wanted to make her even the slightest bit uncomfortable, even at the expense of his own needs, and even though she'd been a proper brat to him for much of that time. Thank Merlin they had worked all that out before his confession. Ginny couldn't imagine she would have let herself get close to Harry if she'd known he fancied her.

Then again, Ginny had to admit, it was unlikely that Harry would ever have confessed to fancying her if she hadn't first been comfortable enough with him to sit with him under a blanket on a sofa and hold his hand.

Ginny sighed. Maybe she needed to think about this rationally. She'd start with the facts, not emotions, and go for there. Fact number one: she'd held Harry's hand. Fact number two: holding Harry's hand meant that she . . . ?

That question was nearly enough to get Ginny to summon the bottle of whiskey back to her. Had her holding of his hand been an unconscious sign that she fancied him too, or was it merely a reflection of her comfort at their friendship? And more importantly, how the hell was she going to figure out the difference? It was all already out there; there was no way to examine at her feelings for Harry objectively, knowing what she now knew.

A tap at her window startled her out of her musings. An owl . . . no, two owls were there, a package balanced between them. For a wild second Ginny wondered if Harry had sent her something, maybe a gift to reiterate his feelings for her, or maybe a peace offering to smooth over his revelation. A moment later she flushed, embarrassed to even have such a thought. She'd just watched Harry leaving with the rest of his team; he certainly wouldn't be thinking about her right now.

She was partly right. The package contained her clean laundry, the laundry that Harry had paid to have professionally washed for her. Looking at the perfectly folded shirts and trousers, Ginny reconsidered her assumption that Harry was just being nice when he'd offered to take care of her laundry. Or when he'd made it possible for her to live in this building for that matter. Sure, he said he'd just wanted Ron to live with him, and that was true, but he very easily could have charged Ron rent and left Ginny to find her own lodging somewhere cheaper.

The thought that Harry might have subtly manipulated Ginny's plans to land her in the same apartment building – on the same floor – as he lived probably should have made her angry. As a rule, Ginny did not like others making decisions for her. But she wasn't angry, and that realization was enough to start her pacing again.

What she needed to figure out was . . . how she was going to figure this out. And she had to do it alone, that much was obvious. Normally, she'd seek out Hermione, or call up Demelza for a long night of girl-talk. She'd recently started getting friendlier with Angelina too; they'd been paired up on several training exercises and Ginny really liked her calm assurance, not to mention the fact that she was able to date George without taking any of his shit.

But Demelza was unreachable, training in secret with the curse-breakers, and Hermione and Angelina were out of the question for obvious reasons. And she certainly couldn't say anything to her mum. It would be entirely unfair to Harry to get her family involved; family dinners would turn into an absolute circus, everyone watching Harry and Ginny for signs they were about to sneak away to shag or something.

Ginny flushed. _Shagging? What the hell was wrong with her? Was this where her thoughts were going to go all the time now? She did not want to shag Harry._

Ginny stopped pacing. That was true, at least. Where she stood, at that moment, the thought of doing anything physical with Harry felt . . . not wrong or uncomfortable, but . . . foreign. It felt foreign. It was like a country she'd never visited, had never even considered visiting, but now that she was aware that it might be a place to vacation, she had to do some research before she could decide if she wanted to go.

Well, okay then. That's where she'd start. Ginny had to decide if she had any physical feelings for Harry. Or, more specifically, whether she _could _have those feelings. Because if not, then there was nothing else to decide. Either she was attracted to Harry or she wasn't.

She flopped back on the sofa. So how exactly was she to figure this out? Didn't attraction usually just happen naturally? And more importantly, was the fact that it hadn't, some sort of sign that Ginny didn't feel that way?"

"That's not fair. We've just gotten to be friends." Ginny spoke out loud without realizing it. But it was true. She wasn't discounting having feelings for Harry _ever;_ if that was the case, she was confident she'd already be wrinkling her nose at the thought of kissing him or more. _Or more. Yikes. _

The thought didn't disgust her, and she took that as a sign to keep thinking. She sighed. This was getting too clinical. Maybe she should just pull down her trousers, lie down, and see where her thoughts - and her body – took her.

Ginny snorted to herself. Right. That'd be rich. Wanking to the thought of Harry . . . what, playing naked Quidditch or something? That was ridiculous; she wasn't fourteen. But . . . what if she inserted Harry into one of her more recent daydreams, in place of the mostly faceless (but well-built) men than usually marched through her thoughts when she was feeling randy? What could that tell her? Could she even let herself do that? Ginny glanced at her bed. It was actually easier to imagine Harry there than in some crazy fantastical scenario. He'd _been there_, on her bed when they talked a couple of weeks ago. Had he been thinking of the other things he wanted to do with her on that bed then? He'd given no indication, at least, none that Ginny had noticed. How much effort had that taken?

Ginny sighed. Her thoughts were swirling, but they kept coming back to the same uncertain place. It was clear she wasn't going to make any decision tonight. Maybe the best thing to do would be to try to keep things normal between them.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when, not ten minutes after leaving Ginny's flat, Dam messaged the team that they were going to depart that night for one of their training facilities. The Arrows captain hadn't been exactly subtle about the fact that two break-ins at the apartment had him spooked, even going so far as to apologize to Harry for urging him to kiss that "pushy Russian witch" several weeks earlier. After skipping two workouts because he'd been attempting – rather unsuccessfully – to add more wards to his flat, Dam had talked to Arrows management and the decision had been made for the team to spend a day practicing at one of their more out-of-the-way practice pitches before Apparating to Tutshill for the next day's match.

Harry had had half a mind to see Ginny in the morning, maybe under the pretext of bringing her some of Ron's coffee, just to establish that he wanted to keep things normal and friendly between them. Now, he wasn't even sure she knew the team had left, and the thought that she may be alone in her flat, ruminating about his admission and maybe coming to a conclusion he wouldn't like, had him pacing restlessly around his small, chilly hotel room.

At least he'd gotten a single. Given the way his thoughts were swirling, if he'd been sharing a room with someone like Adam or Kipling, he wasn't sure he could have kept from blurting out the story of his confession. Hell, he might have even said something to Dam, and then they'd have never heard the end of it. Ginny would have hated that; at the very least, Harry owed her the time and privacy to think about things herself.

_But what was she thinking?_

The hotel room had a magical mini-bar, and Harry looked longingly at the bottle of Ogden's on its shelf, but refrained. They had a 5:30 am practice in the morning. Convincing himself not to send Ginny an owl or Patronus was more difficult. There was so much he'd left unsaid, so much he still wanted to explain. All he could think about was the look of surprise and uncertainty on Ginny's face when she'd learned Harry's secret. As much as his rational brain knew he couldn't have kept his feelings from her forever, in the back of his mind, Harry had harbored a vision of Ginny coming to her own realization first. They would have laughed about it between kisses, their friendship solidified into more, Ginny making the first move. But try as he might, Harry couldn't convince himself that Ginny's holding his hand was that sort of move. She'd been as surprised as he was, that had been obvious.

Harry flopped face-first onto his bed. This road trip was three days long. What kind of conclusion would Ginny come to, with three days to think?

HPHPHPHP

Ginny wasn't particularly surprised to see a number of senior aurors waiting in the training room the following morning. She'd assumed the matter of the break-in at her building would be a topic of discussion eventually. At least there had been no Prophet articles this time. She stifled a yawn, hoping she wouldn't be asked too many difficult questions. It had been well after midnight before her thoughts finally calmed enough to let her sleep, and only after she'd finally come to the decision to try consciously keeping her thoughts away from Harry as much as possible. Their road trip was three days long; maybe three days of not thinking about Harry would make it easier to get some clarity when he returned. She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. Ron had overslept and the mediocre coffee from the Auror kitchen she'd had to get instead tasted rather like pond water.

Camilla Stalk didn't seem concerned by Ginny's drowsiness. "Miss Weasley," she said briskly as soon as all the trainees were seated, "can you please tell the class how you knew the intruder to your building was an imposter? What clues did you find, and how did you use your Auror training to neutralize the threat?"

When Ginny opened her mouth to speak, Camilla shook her head and gestured next to her. "Up here, please. So everyone can hear you."

Ginny felt Ron's light touch of encouragement on her arm as she walked by; he was drinking bad coffee too, she noted. She didn't catch his eye, worried that he'd be able to tell something from her expression. Ron had become a lot more astute about those things since he'd started dating Hermione; Ginny could only hope that the fact that Harry had kept his feelings hidden from his best friend for so long meant that Ron would remain completely in the dark.

She faced the class. "Umm, the reason I suspected that Zoya – although I couldn't tell she was Zoya, she was transfigured at the time - umm, but the reason was that she told me that she was there to pick up . . . H-harry's laundry. And umm, I knew that he didn't send it out; he does it himself." She hoped no one had noticed that she'd tripped over his name, it was bad enough that she knew intimate details about Harry's laundry habits. _So much for not thinking about him. _She looked at her chair, wondering if she could be done.

"And Harry was there, wasn't he? Did he suspect too?" Copernicus had clearly gotten himself caught up on the details of Zoya's capture. He had a slightly eager look on his face, and Ginny suspected he was disappointed not to have been involved. Ginny nodded stiffly.

"Harry and Zoya came into the laundry room together while I was there. I could tell he already knew she was up to no good." Ginny regretted her words almost immediately. Next to her, Camilla lifted her eyebrows, but it was Shephard Kane, who up to now had been observing, who spoke.

"Immediately? How? Do you and Mr. Potter know how to engage in silent communication? Has he taught you some of what he learned from the Aurors?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, nothing like that," she said quickly. Ron caught her eye and Angelina gave her a sympathetic grimace. They understood. But Parvati's expression was animated in the way Ginny knew she reserved for juicy celebrity gossip, and Copernicus had a rather calculating look on his face. Ginny hastened to explain.

"It's just that I've known Harry a long time," she said. "He taught me in the DA and I know he's always on the lookout for anything suspicious." She gestured around the room. "I'm sure Ernie or Ron or Parvati would have figured out what he was thinking too."

"Maybe, maybe not," said Kane. "They don't have quite the connection you and Mr. Potter have, do they?"

Ginny sighed. They were back to the Chamber again. Hell, if all she needed as proof she and Harry belonged together was to rely on was the fact that he had once saved her life, she'd have jumped into bed with him already. She flushed. _Stop thinking about shagging, _she silently lectured herself. _Especially around people who know Legilimency. _Careful to not look anyone in the eye, she muttered "are there any other questions?" to the room.

"Oh, I'm sure there are, but I just got notice that we need to start your independent field exercises." Camilla was consulting a magical clipboard. There was an excited murmuring around the room; getting to go out on official Auror business alone was something they'd all looked forwards to. It didn't matter that it was all mostly busywork, missions concocted solely for the purpose of testing the trainees. It was still progress.

Ginny sat down, relieved to be done for now. The thought of being able to do something even somewhat useful as an Auror, without having to tag along with someone more senior, was more than a little enticing. Despite her protests to the contrary, Ginny knew they treated her differently, that it hadn't been random chance that she'd been the only one without a trainee partner on their last exercise, and sent out with Robards instead. But now she could be alone, and make her own decisions and observations, just like the other trainees. Their assignments were carefully planned out; Ginny was unlikely to run into any maniacal fans or be asked to question children about their parents' loyalties.

She listened distractedly as Camilla gave out assignments, sending Ron to an owl-post to look into patterns in how certain customers selected birds for deliveries and Copernicus to Gringotts to interview a Goblin about newly opened vaults. All of the assignments were similar, aimed mostly at collecting data that the trainees would practice analyzing for anything suspicious. Ginny didn't know how much useful information they would get, but at least she understood that not all Auror work would be dramatic raids on dens of dark wizards. By the somewhat disdainful look on Copernicus' face, Ginny suspected that he'd rather hoped to be given a task that would have required stealth and cunning and possibly some of the hexes they'd been learning.

"Ginny, you'll be going to . . ." Camilla broke off and frowned at her notes. Ginny saw her shoot a quick glance to where Robards and Shepard Kane were standing, but both men just looked back at her blandly. After another moment, Camilla shrugged.

"Ginny, you'll be going to the Arrows' northern training facility to evaluate the safety of the wards there. After what's been happening at Incantation Court, team management wants to make doubly sure there's no way for someone unauthorized to gain access to the other locations where the team congregates." The woman spoke with her trademark briskness, boding no argument.

Ginny stuttered in surprise. "But . . . that's not really the job for a trainee, is it?" She knew it wasn't; evaluating and setting wards was a job for experienced curse breakers. Her brother Bill regularly consulted on security for Quidditch teams.

Camilla turned her body slightly and gave Ginny a knowing look, out of the line of sight of the other senior Aurors. "Of course you're right," she said slowly. "The wards are set and maintained by professionals. But the team has been kind enough to allow one of our trainees access to the area for practice. Since you've played Quidditch and live in the building with the Arrows and have already been subject to background security checks, it makes sense to have you take that assignment.

Ginny refrained from mentioning that Ron also played Quidditch and had been subject to the same background checks; she knew that didn't matter. "Am I still to go alone, like everyone else?" she asked carefully.

Camilla gave her a knowing look. "Yes, of course," she said. "You'll be meeting with the Arrows' head of security, a man named Henrik Burly. He'll show you around."

Ginny nodded. "I know him, thank you," she said. Henrik Burly was a step up from the Arrows' typical security force, which was probably why he'd been put in charge. She didn't think he had anything to do with the setting of the wards, but she supposed that didn't matter for this training exercise. Bill could answer any outlying questions she might have. In the meantime, it looked like she might be seeing Harry again sooner than she expected.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry huffed out another breath of air as he contemplated the next set of steps. This was one of Dam's favorite training activities; having the entire team – regular players and reserves – run up and down all the steps in their main stadium. It built stamina and character, he said, and made them all do it at least once a week. Harry didn't complain the way some of his teammates did. For one, Dam himself ran right along with them; usually beating most of them. And Harry couldn't deny that all the off-broom training had made him that much stronger – and better – when he was flying. He'd been working out even more in the months since he and Ginny had become friends, and his youthful crush had morphed into something more tangible, something that needed to be hidden. He'd upped his workouts as a way to use up excess energy these days, and was exercising more than Dam expected them to, actually.

He was sweating and his legs burned, but in a good way. Glancing back, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for teammate Adam Ramsey. The blonde Chaser didn't like running steps on a good day, and the late night Portkey to the Arrows' northern facility wasn't doing him any favors; he was dragging.

Harry shook his head to himself as he started up the next flight of stairs. Pushing himself physically could only distract his thoughts for so long, but he didn't know what else to do. It had been bad enough before, but after confessing his feelings to Ginny, his normal nighttime activity – wanking to thoughts of her – felt wrong. Just the thought that she might now assume that's what he was doing made him flush - could he ever look at her in the face again? Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd done the right thing, telling her. Dam wouldn't have hesitated, he knew. But Dam was perfectly happy with his one-night stands, as far as Harry could tell; the captain neither had nor wanted any female friends at all. Not that Harry hadn't learned to enjoy going out and having fun – being an Arrow practically demanded it sometimes. But as much as his teammates ribbed him, Harry still preferred joking around with friends over trying to conquer a new witch each night; anything beyond mild flirting with any of the hoards of fans that seemed to hang around the team had never held any interest for him. He'd just never let himself admit how closely his disinterest in anyone else was tied to his feelings for Ginny.

The sound of a whistle pulled Harry out of his thoughts. Dam was calling them all down to talk before they started their in-air drills. Harry hopped down the stairs, neatly leaping over Adam, who had finally reached the top and was now lying down, groaning slightly at the thought of having to descend.

"Better get your arse down there," he said lightly to his teammate. "You don't want Dam coming up here to get you." Adam was a little notorious for not liking to exercise, and Dam would only look the other way for so long.

Adam hauled himself to his feet. ""I've got to start working out more," he muttered to Harry as they began walking slowly down. "I'll swear on an entire bottle of Firewhisky."

Harry snorted. They'd all heard that from Adam before. His oaths tended to last three days, tops.

"But what about you?" Adam asked, giving Harry an openly curious look. "You've been working out double time lately." He waggled his eyebrows. "Any chance it's for a particular witch?"

"Ginny and I are just friends," said Harry quickly. A second later, he mentally kicked himself. Adam had no idea; he'd just been asking if Harry was interested in anyone specific, not that he had someone in mind.

But Adam didn't seem to realize the significance of Harry's comment. "Too bad, she's bloody gorgeous," he said amiably as they descended. "I think Kipling has a crush on her, but he's too shy to say anything." He looked curiously at Harry. "But when did the two of you become friends? You always seemed to be sniping at each other when she first moved in."

Adam's comment reminded Harry suddenly of Luna, and her oddly astute way of realizing things even while her head was otherwise in the clouds. He shrugged. "I've known her since I was eleven, and I think we both needed to grow up a bit," he said. "It took us a while, to become friends, I mean. But it's better now that we are, you know?"

Adam nodded. "It's always better to be friends," he agreed. He chuckled. "Dam would like to be more than friends with her, I think."

Harry tripped over a step and stubbed his toe. "Shit," he muttered. He tried to make his voice casual. "I thought Ginny and Dam was just that one time thing?" he said. Adam was Dam's flatmate, and it occurred to Harry that Adam might know something extra. "Or have they gotten together since?" He didn't think so; Ginny would have said something to him, wouldn't she? A day ago, Harry would have been sure of it. Now everything was in flux. But Dam would have said something, he consoled himself. He'd not have been able to keep that a secret. _There's no way Ginny and Dam did anything but kiss that one time._

Adam confirmed that. "I guess she's quite the kisser," he chuckled. "Dam's mentioned a couple of times that he wouldn't mind a second round." He looked sideways at Harry. "Probably not around you though, seeing as her brother is your best mate. You're practically a brother yourself then, aren't you?" His voice was teasing, but there was no malice in it; he had no idea. For that reason Harry tried to control his response.

"I don't see her as her brother, not at all." He couldn't completely keep the petulance out of his voice. "We're friends now, good friends."

Adam chuckled again. "And what does Ginny think?"

Thankfully, they reached the bottom of the stairs then and Harry was saved from answering.

His mind half on the thought of whether Ginny would want to kiss Dam again – despite her having told Harry that she had no interest in the captain – Harry wasn't paying much attention to the additional people huddled with the team. It was only when Adam said "well, speak of the devil," that Harry looked up. He swallowed hard. _How could he have missed her?_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny had Apparated to the outside of the Arrows' northern training complex iafter Camilla finished handing out assignments. Technically, she was only there to observe the wards that already existed (thanks to Bill), but she knew she hadn't missed the look on Camilla's face when she'd seen Ginny's assignment, nor had she imagined the woman's quiet _we need to talk, later _whispered low near Ginny's ear when she'd leaned in on the pretense of giving Ginny the proper address for Apparition. Something was going on, and Camilla didn't want Robards or Kane in on the conversation.

Ginny had nodded back, barely showing she acknowledged the command, and Apparated to the training site, her mind already on her assignment. Ginny found Henrik Burly easily, and half-listened as he described the layout of their training pitches. The other half of her attention was captured by the sight she viewed though the Muggle-style binoculars she'd brought with her. They had been modified quite a bit by magic, of course.

As she panned across the fields, Ginny's attention was captured by the small figures running up and down the stadium steps. It took no more than a minute for her to locate Harry; she didn't even need to see the name "Potter" stitched across his back to recognize his stature and the way he moved in fluid, tight motion up the steps. He hardly seemed winded, and Ginny remembered Ron saying that from his first day on the team, Harry had taken his position seriously, pushing himself in his training, his practices, and the way he poured over his playbooks, lest anyone suggest he'd only gotten the position because of his fame. He'd known he was to be hazed by the more experienced members and Harry hadn't wanted to give them any extra ammunition.

Watching him, even with her new knowledge of his feelings for her, Ginny couldn't help but grin. Harry certainly been able to prove himself quickly; there was no question now that he was the best Seeker the team had ever had, one of the best in the league, even. She'd even started to hear rumblings of him making the National Squad for England in a year or two, although Ginny was quite certain that kind of position held no interest for Harry. He'd never want the attention.

But now, Ginny found it rather hard to pull her attention away. He'd pulled off his shirt at some point, and the taut muscles across his back gleamed with sweat.

She shook her head to clear it. _Focus, _she scolded herself. _You're here as an Auror trainee, not a fan. _Unspoken was the thought that came unbidden anyway. She shouldn't be thinking about Harry in any way that wasn't strictly professional, or friendly at most. As contrived as her assignment might be, she was still there to evaluate the wards. But she couldn't deny that the longer she watched Harry run, the harder it was to pull her gaze away. He reached the top of the last set of steps, and she watched as he stepped nimbly over the prone figure of who turned out to be Adam Ramsey. The two seemed rather deep in conversation as they descended; through her binoculars, Ginny could see Harry flush at one point, and she wondered at the cause. His abs were well-defined, she noted with idle interest. She made a mental note to ask him about his training regimen.

An odd tingle coursed through her, and she forced her attention back to the head of security. He'd levitated a couple of maps in front of her to point out the locations of the wards, when Dam's lively voice cut through Burly's drone.

"Well, well, if the Aurors didn't send us their most attractive trainee. What's your job, Ginny, going to stop yet another fan-witch from sneaking up on us?"

"Fortunately for you, the Bellows seem to have run out of sisters," joked Ginny. She had no doubts anymore how to handle Dam. "I'm supposed to be evaluating the wards around the stadium, but honestly, I think I'll have more to critique when I see how you all fly. You got flattened by Wimbourne last week, didn't you?"

Dam groaned. "Don't remind me. Wilder got practically knocked off his broom and his arm still isn't back to normal." Dam looked at the Chaser. "What did the trainer say?"

Wilder shrugged. "I'm grounded for practice; they want to try a new healing spell to clear up the stiffness."

Dam groaned. "And Caleb's out for his kid's birthday," he said, naming the Arrow's reserve Chaser. "So we're down a body." His eyes settled on Ginny. "Or maybe not," he said slowly. "Your body would work just fine. You played Chaser, didn't you?"

Before Ginny could come up with a smart retort, Dam had turned to Harry. "Potter, how's Weasley on a broom? We need a Chaser for practice; think she'd do?"

Harry's eyes flicked to hers; Ginny couldn't read their expression. He swallowed and then nodded. "She's excellent on a broom," he said carefully. He looked away. "I'd grab one of the newest Solar Flares; they're the closest to the Comet she flew in school. Much easier to control, of course." His eyes flicked to her again. "Do you think you can handle one? They have quite a bit more power than you're used to."

Ginny sucked in a breath. She'd flown a Solar Flare once, during the day she'd visited the Holyhead Harpies for a tryout. The ease and power of the broom had almost made Ginny reconsider Gwenog's offer to become a Harpy reserve Chaser; she'd never flown anything so enjoyable. The Aurors' brooms tended to be stodgy older models, something Ron complained about on a regular basis. She nodded. "I think I can manage," she said lightly. She couldn't bring herself to look at Harry. He still wasn't wearing a shirt and she told herself she was just being modest; even she didn't believe that lie.

"I'll need to fly the perimeter at some point to view the wards," she said. She easily caught the broom Dam tossed to her and straddled it, grinning at the hum of power between her legs. She caught Harry's eye and found him grinning back.

"Feels like nothing else, does it?" he asked, kicking off on his Firebolt; he'd never flown another brand since his third year at Hogwarts. Dam watched him take off and then smirked at Ginny.

"I can think of something else that feels equally good between your legs," he said. "Not that Harry seems to know. That bloke really needs another pub night and then a good shag."

This was the third time since Harry's confession that the topic of shagging him had come up. Ginny tried to avoid the thoughts that were creeping into her head and kicked off the ground without answering Dam. There was nothing at all she could say without incriminating either Harry . . . or herself.

The ended up playing a modified version of a real Quidditch match, expanding the playing pitch so that Ginny could fly around the perimeter and check the wards. They were perfect, of course, shimmering so faintly that if she hadn't known they were there, she wouldn't have noticed them. But they were similar to the wards Bill had set up at the Burrow, so Ginny was quickly able to catalogue them for their protective abilities and recognize two spots where branches of an overhanging tree might call for additional attention.

And all the time, she was flying like the wind on the Solar Flare, passing the Quaffle effortlessly back and forth with the other Chasers and trying – and usually failing – to keep her eyes off of Harry as he darted in and out of the melee. Dam hadn't even released the Snitch; Harry was mostly goofing off, trying to interfere with the other players by calling them names and crossing their paths at inopportune times, forcing them off course. He didn't tease Ginny, but once, when he veered his broom close to her and knocked the Quaffle away from her reach, she caught his eye. He'd put on an older Gryffindor practice jersey, she noticed, and for a minute she felt fourteen again, thinking he was about to raise his hand in triumph at having caught the Snitch to beat Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Ginny saw Harry's mouth open and then close, as if he wanted to say something. A piece of hair flopped into his face and Ginny's hand was halfway towards pushing it aside before she stopped herself and pulled back. He followed the movement and she saw his lips tighten.

"I'm sorry," he said roughly. Below them, the other Chasers were yelling for the Quaffle. Ginny tossed it to Adam and then turned back to Harry. She shook her head.

"Don't be," she said, equally roughly. "You did the right thing. I just . . ."

"Look sharp, Weasley!" A Bludger came out of nowhere and she had to swerve on her broom to avoid it. By the time she regained her balance, Harry had flown to the other side of the pitch to taunt Dam. She thought she saw him looking at her a couple more times, each accompanied with the same odd swoop in her stomach. She pushed all thoughts out of her head; this was not the time or place to think about it.

Despite the tension with Harry, Ginny couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun. When they finally all landed, windblown and sweaty, Ginny almost felt ready to take Dam up on his offer to come out drinking later with the team. Without really thinking about it, she let herself be gathered up in the team huddle Dam organized, a ritual the others were obviously familiar with. Ginny couldn't follow the rapid rhyming cheer they all shouted, but it didn't really matter. The camaraderie of the group reminded her a being with her brothers, and she felt entirely comfortable joking and pushing and knocking hips as they all jockeyed to stay on their feet.

"Drinks later, Weasley?" Dam asked again.

Reluctantly, she shook her head.

"I have to write up my report on the wards and work tomorrow," she said. She raised her eyebrows at the Arrows' captain. "You know, real work. None of this lolling around on brooms or anything."

Dam threw back his head and laughed. "Give me a broom any day," he said. "None of this cloak and dagger stuff you Aurors get into." He looked at Harry. "I don't know how you stood it for as long as you did, being alone like you were." He cuffed Harry on the arm. "Now if you'd had someone like Ginny for a partner, maybe we'd never had convinced you to come play for us."

While Harry shrugged sheepishly, it did not escape Ginny's notice that Dam seemed to know more about the year Harrry had spent with the Aurors than Ginny would have thought. She knew he'd been off on special assignments some of the time, but had never really translated that into the fact that he'd been alone. She looked at him, and after a second, he met her gaze. She smiled, and after a second, he gave her a small smile back.

"I don't blame him for wanting to play with you lot, crazy as you may be," Ginny said with a grin. It was taking a lot of effort to keep things light, but she didn't think anyone could hear the catch in her voice. She only hoped they'd think the flush on her cheeks was from the wind.

There wasn't much else for Ginny to do and she didn't want to seem obvious by hanging around any longer. When one of the trainers came out of a nearby building to ask Harry if he was ready for his post workout massage, Ginny said a hasty goodbye and gathered up the parchment maps Henrik Burly had given her.

She wasn't quick enough. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Harry pull his jersey over his head and toss it into a laundry bin before turning towards her.

"See you later, Ginny," he said casually.

She nodded. "Friday, right? That's when you're back?"

Dam's chuckle interrupted. "You know our schedule better than I do," he said. He turned to Harry. "Potter, get your arse in the shower and then onto the massage table. I'm on the schedule after you and I don't want to wait." He looked at the rest of the team. "Everyone else can take a break at the hotel."

"Right then," said Ginny. She took a couple of steps backwards. "I'll just. . ." she gestured towards the Apparition point. "Umm, see you." She whirled away, not waiting to see if anyone said anything else.

Ginny Apparated home in something of a daze. The sweat had dried on her skin and she needed a shower, but she ignored her bathroom and instead fell onto her bed, still fully clothed. She closed her eyes, remembering the huddle, and the weight of Harry's arm around her shoulders and the pressure of his hip against hers. She wasn't even sure if she'd ended up next to him on accident, or if one of the two of them had arranged themselves that way. Her jumper smelled like Harry and Ginny didn't even have to think before slipping her hand into her trousers and finding the spot between her legs.

The image came to her almost immediately aided, no doubt, by Harry's current activity. He was lying his stomach on a massage table covered by nothing more than a small towel. But instead of the matronly trainer with arms like hams who worked for the team, Ginny imagined herself, naked, climbing up to straddle Harry's bum and run her hands down his sides. On the bed, her fingers swirled and dipped while in her mind, Harry rolled over onto his back and the towel fell away. He gave her a lazy smile.

"Figuring things out there, Ginny?" He reached forward and touched her. "You're so wet, Ginny," he said in a voice that was both husky with desire and still full of the boyish wonder of someone who'd never done this before. Ginny shivered. Harry propped himself up on his elbows until his erect penis tickled Ginny in the very place her fingers were now moving.

"It's better if I do it," he said.

Ginny let her head fall back on her pillow. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Harry's fingers parting her folds, tickling inside her thighs, and finally finding her clitoris. He thrust against her, lightly as first, and then, as she opened her legs, Harry moved to cover her completely. Ginny grabbed at his waist and then his bum, feeling the muscles she'd glimpsed when he was running. Her fingers moved faster.

"One day, I'll be inside you for real," Harry whispered, and Ginny climaxed, arching her back and pushing her hand against her skin to try to draw out the sensation.

She came back to herself slowly, reluctantly pulling her hand out of her knickers and rolling onto her side. She'd never brought herself to orgasm so quickly before, and the thought was both arousing and unnerving.

"That's one thing sorted, I guess," she finally said to herself. She was still tingling with the imagined thought of Harry's eyes on her naked body. She tried to be embarrassed but just couldn't muster the emotion. Harry, even in her imagination, had been glorious.

Fairly, she considered the fact that he might have had similar thoughts about her. It wouldn't be fair to get upset about it.

But this all presented a dilemma. Ginny had no doubt now that she was physically attracted to Harry; indeed, she was already considering whether a shower would be a long enough time to get her body ready for another go. But physical attraction did not automatically mean an emotional one. Yes, she and Harry were friends, but did she want more? And more importantly, could she figure it out while her body was screaming for physical contact? The last thing she wanted would be to start something purely physical with Harry before she knew how she felt about everything else. It would be supremely unfair to him. To her as well, but given the way she was feeling right now, she thought she wouldn't mind a night or two of unfairness.

That thought was enough to get Ginny to push herself off the bed. She would absolutely not let Harry know anything, or see anything of her attraction unless and until she knew it was more than her randy body needing some action. For she was certain that nothing would ruin their friendship faster than jumping into bed with him without knowing what it meant to them both.

Ginny stripped off her sweaty clothes and sighed. Despite the day's realization, she still felt no closer to figuring out exactly how to answer Harry's confession. It was gong to be doubly hard to be around him now; she was sure her body was going to give something away. At least she wasn't a bloke.

_I'll just have to work harder to keep things normal between us. _Grabbing a towel, Ginny headed to her shower, already wondering to herself if Harry was now in one himself, and what he might be doing there.

A/N: Can we all say "Finally"? Obviously, there's a lot more to write, but I promised someone (ahem, you know who you are) this last scene almost from the second I began this story, and it's been delicious torture trying to get Ginny to this point. Also, I had a lot of fun with the training camp scene; I hope that at least some of you recognized the parallels (and in some places blatant copying) to where it came from.


	16. Waiting Games

The massage worked out the tight kinks in Harry's neck and back, but it did nothing to ease his libido. He could still feel Ginny's hip, pressed up against his when they had all huddled, and he imagined he could even smell her distinct flowery scent that partly masked the sweat underneath. It was much more pleasant than the many odors that usually permeated the Arrows' training camp, and her body next to his had felt completely different from Sors Vincenti, who'd been crammed against Harry's other side. Harry's arm had been thrown companionably over Ginny's shoulder like the rest, and it took all his willpower not to drop his hand to her waist instead.

But he was glad he'd been able to control himself. Ginny hadn't given anything away about what she was thinking, and Harry refused to break down and ask. He'd already laid himself completely open, and now the only fair thing to do was to give Ginny the time and space to figure out how to respond, no matter how long it took.

Harry pushed aside the thought that the longer it took would probably mean . . . no. He wouldn't go there, at least, not yet. Right now, making sure that he and Ginny came out on the other side of his confession at least as friends was the most important thing.

But if he was going to be spending so much energy making sure that his friendship with Ginny stayed as normal as possible, he was swiftly coming to the realization that he'd not be able to keep up the charade in private too. Sitting alone in the quiet of his hotel room, Harry final gave up his internal struggle. He undid his belt roughly and worked swiftly on the opening of his trousers, trying not to think about what he was going to do.

Ever since he'd confessed his feelings to Ginny – and even a little bit before that - he'd struggled to keep the imagined women of his nighttime and shower fantasies away from Ginny's physical type. It hadn't bothered him before that - hence his teenaged "Ginny the mermaid" fantasies, and the more mature daydreams he'd concocted later. But the closer he and Ginny had become, the more difficult it was to put her into his thoughts without feeling that he was both invading her privacy and also imagining something that he could never have in real life.

Harry closed his eyes and let himself imagine the way Ginny had looked that morning when she'd shrugged off her Auror's robes to reveal a pair of fitted track pants and tank top underneath. She'd come to the Arrows' training center hoping to fly, Harry realized, and now, remembering her joy, he was doubly glad she'd gotten the chance.

The image that rose unbidden into his head was a new one – that of Ginny and he breaking away from the rest of the team on the pretense of checking the farthest wards, chasing each other through the air to the very edge of the Arrows' fields. Harry landed first, and when Ginny followed a moment later, she stumbled a bit, falling easily into his arms.

He was already hard, thinking about Ginny letting him pull her shirt over her head and then reach around to undo her bra. Even as he imagined leaning down to kiss her breast, she was pushing down Harry's uniform bottoms and then his pants, watching him for a moment with wide eyes before reaching out for a hesitant touch.

The realism of his fantasy was almost his undoing right there; it was exactly what Harry hoped might happen, if Ginny every reciprocated his feelings for her. He wouldn't expect – or want – either of them to be completely comfortable right away.

Now she ran her fingers down his length before grasping him, stepping closer and allowing Harry to take her face in his hands so he could capture her mouth in a soft kiss. He'd been watching her mouth a lot recently; the open delight in her grin when she'd mounted the Solar Flare that morning had filled him with warmth that had (almost) nothing to do with sex. He loved seeing her smile.

But now Harry was thinking about other things Ginny could do with her mouth. She could press open, wet kisses onto his neck and then slowly move lower, and the thought made Harry groan, his head falling back against the bed. He pumped into his hand, imagining Ginny's smaller one there instead, wrapped around his length with his hand on top, gently guiding her until she found his rhythm. He thought he knew exactly the way her eyes would look then, open wide, sparkling with excitement and desire, a tiny wrinkle between them on her forehead furrowed as she concentrated on bringing him pleasure. He could almost feel her soft breath on his skin as she slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of him. The headboard became one of the large trees that bordered the training camp and Harry didn't even realize he was pushing his back against it, imagining his hands tangling in Ginny's hair and then looking down as she took him into her mouth, licking and sucking, deeper and deeper.

Any intent Harry might have had to take his fantasy further - to think about bringing Ginny her own pleasure – exploded as completely as the orgasm that washed over him seconds later. He came hard, spurting over his hand and onto part of his shirt. For long minutes he sat on the bed, only belatedly realizing that his back ached from the way he'd shoved himself against the wooden headboard. His penis softened rapidly, for there were no soft kisses on his lips now, or fingers in his hair, or the sounds he imagined Ginny might make if he ever had the chance to use his own hands and mouth on her. Harry had never missed those things, when he wanked to the image of a stranger. But he couldn't really avoid them, when he thought of Ginny. It made sense; she was the only woman he'd ever really wanted to be with. He wasn't, though, and he was no closer to understanding if there was even a chance he could be. Sighing, he grabbed his wand to clean up the mess and stiffly rolled off the bed and into the loo. They had a big game tomorrow and he needed some rest.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny slept well that night; even Ron noticed it the next morning when she knocked on his door for coffee and was surprised to see him, fully dressed and ready to walk with her. The explanation for his promptness was apparent; Hermione followed too, ready for her day in the department of Magical Law enforcement.

She began peppering Ginny with questions as they walked to the lift; clearly Ron had been keeping her up to date on everything that had been going on.

"How did things go at the Arrows' stadium? Did you get to see Harry?" There was not a hint of suggestiveness in her tone and Ginny knew she was asking purely about work. She nodded.

"I got to fly with the Arrows, while I checked the wards," she said. "On a Solar Flare."

Hermione's expression didn't change at hearing the name of the broom and Ginny stifled a smile. Ron gave a low whistle. "Wow, they let you use one? I've heard the new ones fly even more smoothly than the Firebolt."

"Don't let Harry hear you say that," joked Ginny. "But yeah, it was completely amazing, changing direction was almost effortless." She didn't mention that it hadn't been her first time on one of the brooms.

"But you didn't really need to check the wards, did you?" Hermione pushed open the front door. She never had patience for Quidditch talk. "I mean, I know these first assignments aren't going to be terribly significant, but did you learn anything at all?"

_I learned more than you could imagine._

Ginny hoped Ron and Hermione couldn't see her blush. She'd woken up feeling like the previous day had been something of a dream. Had she really masturbated to the thought of Harry? The almost immediate swoop in her stomach told her she hadn't imagined it. But that was something to be figured out later, when she wasn't walking with the two people who'd probably be nearly as interested as Harry himself at hearing the news. She forced herself to focus on Hermione's question.

"Not much," she admitted. "I could see the wards, since I know how to recognize Bill's work, but that was about it. Maybe that's important? I don't think they're visible to most people."

"They aren't," agreed Hermione. "And have you noticed the new ones here?" She gestured back at the door they'd just left, which Ginny was surprised to see was faintly shimmering. She frowned. "Did it always do that?"

Ron shook his head. "Bill was here with a couple of other curse breakers yesterday, adding new security to the building," he said. "I think he was training a couple of them, actually; they were here longer than Bill usually takes for something as basic as housing wards. I don't even know what all they did, but there's going to be a tenants-only meeting as soon as the Arrows get home to explain it all. The team isn't taking any more chances."

"Do you know when the meeting is?" she asked casually. Better to have some warning about the next time she was going to see Harry.

Ron shrugged. "This weekend maybe? I saw what's his name, the building manager – Clive is it? He was keeping an eye on the curse breakers. He mentioned it."

Ginny nodded and let it drop. She'd figure it out on her own – or possibly Harry would stop by and remind her; it was the kind of thing she could imagine him doing, to prove that he was trying to keep things normal between them. She blew on her coffee, thinking.

Hermione interrupted her thoughts with another question. "And what about Robards and those other Aurors – I know Shephard Kane, but I've not met the woman. What's her name again?"

"Camilla Stalk," said Ginny. She glanced at her brother. "You noticed?"

Ron nodded. "I don't think too many others did though," he said. "What did she say to you?"

Ginny looked around before answering. The sidewalk was still fairly deserted – it was earlier than usual – but she wasn't taking any chances and cast a quick Muffliato before answering. "Not much, but she wants to talk to me about something. I don't think she agreed with everything Robards and Kane were doing." Ginny grimaced. "I can't figure out their angle. It's not like they're doing anything wrong, really. Half the time I almost feel like they're just overly curious about what happened to me in the Chamber, and figure there's no harm in asking. I know they are really good Aurors." She hesitated, and then made a decision. "And I don't understand how it relates to Harry." She carefully did not make eye contact. "But I know it does."

"It does," Ron agreed. The street was getting more crowded as people began heading to work, and Ginny was glad for the charm around them. "Harry promised me that he didn't think it was anything that should prevent us from joining the Aurors, but . . ." he shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure if there was something else he didn't want to tell me, or that he just didn't know everything."

This was absolutely not a conversation to be had in the middle of a crowded street, on the way to work. Already they were only a few blocks from the Ministry. Ginny filed away most of what Ron had said and focused on one detail.

"He said it wouldn't prevent us? Just not you?"

Ron looked down at Ginny. "I'm sure," he said. "I don't think he predicted exactly how interested Robards and the others would be in you, though."

Ginny shrugged. "That doesn't matter," she said. "I can handle them."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked skeptically. "They haven't eased up at all, have they? I'd think it must be distracting to your regular training."

"What do you suggest I do then, Hermione?" Ginny didn't mean to take out the stress of the past few days on her friend, but at the moment, she couldn't keep her voice even. "I'm not going to confront them, and I'm not going to quit. You heard Ron - Harry thinks it's fine and he's the one who really knows."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get upset. I know you're just trying to help."

Hermione shrugged. "It's okay," she said. "And I know you can handle things." The Ministry loomed across the street and they all stopped on the corner. "But I remember how stressed Harry seemed, right before he quit. I just don't want you to get to that point."

"It's different for me," said Ginny. "I'm a formal trainee." She tried to lighten the mood. "As long as I have Ron's coffee, I'll be fine."

"I'm beginning to think you like my coffee more than me," said Ron with mock annoyance. He knocked her hip. "I know you've got this, Ginny." There was a break in traffic in front of them and they began to cross the street.

Ginny gave him a smile. "As do you," she said. "And for the record, I do like you more than your coffee."

"I do too," laughed Hermione. "Most of the time." She touched Ginny's arm. "And I know you're fine. Really. Maybe talk to Harry about all this again? I don't know if he'll tell you much more, but . . ."

"He will," Ginny interrupted quickly.

Hermione didn't seem to notice Ginny's quick blush. "Good," she nodded distractedly, dodging a delivery boy on a motorbike. "You ask him then."

Ginny was a bit relieved when Hermione left them in the Atrium to take the stairs down to her office. If anyone was going to figure out that Ginny had more on her mind than what Harry knew about the Aurors, it was her. Ginny just hoped that if that happened, Hermione would come to her first and not share any suspicions with Ron. In the meantime, maybe she needed to concoct a story, a lie, to deflect any behavior that might make it look like she . . .

_Like you what, Ginny? You don't have anything to hide, nothing at all._

"I don't," she said out loud.

"You don't what?" asked Ron. He was still looking a bit dazed from Hermione's kiss goodbye.

"I don't know who Kane is talking to, but she looks kind of familiar, don't you think?" For just in front of the lifts, the Auror was talking to a woman Ginny could have sworn she'd seen somewhere before. Robes fitted a little more snugly than those commonly worn by Ministry workers, makeup applied a little too carefully. She reminded Ginny a bit of Rita Skeeter.

Ron peered in the direction of the pair. "I dunno, maybe," he said. "We're going that way, why don't you see if he introduces us?"

Ginny nodded. "Good idea," she said.

She caught a bit of the conversation as she and Ron approached. ". . . thing permanent of course," Kane was saying. The woman nodded seriously. "Of course not, I am very experienced . . ." her eyes flicked to Ginny, who was certain she saw a spark of recognition in them. A second later it was gone. "Hello, are you waiting for the lift too?" she asked in a completely different voice.

It didn't matter, Ginny had already heard enough of the accent to know that here was either Katerina or Nadia or Zoya Bellows, disguised somehow.

Kane turned. "Ahh, hello Ginny, Ron. Earlier than usual for training, are we, Mr. Weasley?" He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and Ginny just barely held back a snort that Ron's propensity for being nearly late hadn't been missed by their boss.

To his credit, Ron didn't blush. "Haven't been late yet, sir. And don't intend to be."

"Good, good," said Kane. He made no attempt to introduce them to his companion. The lift arrived and Ginny exchanged a quick glance with Ron as the others got on first. Up close, Ginny had to admit that she was impressed by the woman's disguise. It was likely transfiguration and not Polyjuice; there was definitely a resemblance to the Bellows, but it was not strong enough that Ginny could tell which sister was under the disguise. The Russian accent she'd heard was a dead giveaway though.

"We start our unit on potions today, don't we?" asked Ginny. She glanced at the woman again. Had she subtly turned to listen?

Kane nodded. "Detecting, using, antidotes, neutralization. There's a lot to learn," he said distractedly, his attention now captured by a small memo that had flown into his hand as they entered the lift.

"That will be quite useful," Ginny agreed. "Too bad we didn't start our lessons a couple of weeks earlier though. They would have come in handy, given recent events."

Ginny didn't imagine it this time, the woman flinched slightly and opened her mouth as if to say something. But then she shut it again, and her expression morphed into something vaguely bored. Ginny nodded to herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she tried to remember small details of the woman's altered appearance, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that made her look older than she probably was, neat but blunt fingernails colored in a pale color that was neither pink nor beige but somewhere in the middle, heeled shoes that were surprisingly scuffed at the toe. It was these details that tended to repeat themselves even when the bigger parts of a transfiguration job changed, and Ginny was determined to make sure she'd recognize this woman again.

The woman did not get off at the second floor. Ginny saw Kane look at her in surprise, but he didn't say anything, merely ushering Ron and Ginny ahead of him.

Ginny was interested to see that Camilla Stalk was standing – waiting? – in front of the lift as they got off. Her eyes flicked to its remaining sole occupant before she turned away and smiled at Ginny. Behind her, Kane walked off down the hall with Ron, and Ginny wondered if she was being set up.

"How was the Solar Flare?" she asked casually.

Ginny couldn't hide her surprise. "How'd you know?" It seemed like an odd detail for the woman to ask about.

But now Camilla grinned, making her look suddenly younger than she was. "Ravenclaw Seeker, four years," she said proudly. "Won the Cup my Seventh Year." Her voice lowered. "While it wasn't my idea to send you to the Arrows, I knew you'd enjoy yourself, even if the Auror work left something to be desired."

Ginny decided to take the risk. "Why did they send me to the Arrows then?" she asked, equally quietly. Without even realizing it, she had followed Camilla into a small alcove office Ginny knew was used for interviews; it actually had its own door. Camilla didn't close it, though she kept her eye trained on the opening as she answered. "Robards and Kane . . . they're convinced they can find something. Or figure out something. Between you and Harry."

"I'd worked out that much," said Ginny. It was surprisingly easy to talk to the Auror. "But what? I'd assumed it was something with the Chamber, but I'm not sure."

Camilla nodded. "There's that," she agreed. "I just don't know . . . are you and Harry very close?" she asked abruptly.

"Uhh, yeah, we are," said Ginny. "We've been friends for a long time." She didn't bother explaining the exact details of that friendship and how it had changed over the years. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't let anything you come between you two," said Camilla. She looked carefully at Ginny. "I'm not privy to the exact reasons Harry left, but I know it was a big loss for all of us. He's one of a kind. And your relationship with him is . . . well, it's interesting."

Ginny wasn't sure if she was being warned or not, but somehow, she was more comfortable talking about it with Camilla than when Robards or Kane had said nearly the same thing.

"It is interesting," she said. "I just wish I knew exactly why." She thought about asking Camilla if she knew the woman who'd ridden with them in the lift.

"Me too," said Camilla, before Ginny could say anything else. "Robards is brilliant. I'm just not always sure he . . ." her tone changed suddenly. "That's so exciting, that you got to ride such a fast broom! Were the Arrows nice to you?" Camilla spoke the last sentences loudly, with an enthusiasm that was so fake Ginny couldn't believe anyone would buy it.

She nodded back. "Oh, it was like a dream come true," she said in an equally loud voice. She followed Camilla out of the office to find Robards standing in the corridor. Anything else Ginny wanted to ask would have to wait, but she resolved to keep up with Camilla. It was clear the woman knew more than she was letting on, and also that she didn't completely agree with what Robards and Kane were doing. Making a mental note to ask Harry what he thought, Ginny made her way into the training class to learn about potions.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny was oddly disappointed that Harry didn't contact her for the remainder of the Arrows' road trip. It embarrassed her a bit to think that way, but she couldn't deny that she missed Harry's friendship. Normally, they'd send each other the occasional message by owl or even Floo; he'd once popped his head in just in time to snag the final piece of treacle tart from a pan her mum had sent over; Ginny suspected Harry might have been tipped off that time. Now, she alternated between being annoyed at herself for caring and worried that this was how things were always going to be between her and Harry from now on: stilted and uncomfortable. A week ago, she'd just have owled him herself, probably to either congratulate him about their win against Wimbourne or tease him about their poor showing in Holyhead.

But now she was trying not to constantly overthink everything, and then trying not to be annoyed with herself for overthinking. She'd thought of Harry twice more in bed; that was the one place she didn't mind Harry intruding. When she let herself admit it, she knew that wanking to images of Harry was a lot more satisfying than anything she'd ever done by herself before.

Finally, the Friday morning of the day the Arrows were due back, just when Ginny was mentally berating herself for not having the fucking guts to have just sent Harry a casual note, there was a tapping at her window.

The letter was messy; obviously he'd scrawled it hastily.

_Going to a pub after the building meeting tonight. Grab some of the Auror trainees and join us? Dam asked about Parvati . . . _

_-Harry_

It wasn't much, but Ginny couldn't help but smile at its normalcy. _She shouldn't have been so nervous about contacting Harry first. They could certainly remain friends, no matter what. And she could ask him about Robards, like Hermione suggested._

At work, Parvati and a few others were more than pleased at the thought of a night out with the Arrows. Angelina told her that she and George were already planning to come, although Fred and his girlfriend were not. She rolled her eyes.

"They spend more time rowing than anything else, they're worse that Ron and Hermione used to be," she said with a grimace. "How Harry put up with that I'll never know. George spends half his time at my place these days. Not that I'm complaining." She smiled. "A night without arguments will be fun."

"Let's hope everyone else behaves themselves then," said Ginny. "We have a tenants meeting at 6, but should be along soon after that."

HPHPHPHP

Harry watched his owl fly away and resisted the urge to call her back. All week he'd wrestled with the question of whether or not he should contact Ginny before the end of the road trip. It was a question he'd never have given a thought to before. Finally, even though he'd be seeing her in a few hours, he couldn't wait. The pub night was a perfect excuse to be friendly; he hoped she only saw it as such.

Sighing to himself, he pulled on his training clothes for one last fly at the away stadium. Normally, they would have come home after the game last night, but it had gone late, and Dam wanted to take advantage of being in an unfamiliar space to practice. He looked out the window. His owl was just a tiny fleck in the sky now, and he wished he could be there to see Ginny's expression when she opened the note. He'd left it casual enough so that she could refuse to come if she wanted; there were any number of excuses she might make that wouldn't make it seem like she was trying to avoid him. He'd see her at the tenants meeting, at least.

Two hours later, Harry returned to his hotel room to grab his things before Apparating back home. A note was waiting for him by his bed.

_Harry – _

_No surprise, but Parvati was 'absolutely delighted' to join us at the pub tonight. Maybe you should warn Dam. __ A few others are coming too – sounds like Angelina and George need a night away from the flat. I'll fill you in. See you at the meeting._

_-Ginny_

Harry smiled to himself. It was all good.

A/N: My apologies to anyone who saw Ch. 10 again when they tried to read this. I have no idea why the mistake happened.


	17. The Second Realization

A/N: I'll just leave this here, then.

Ginny got ready for the pub before going down to the meeting that evening. She told herself it was to save time afterwards, but even she only half believed that. Still, she felt better walking into the building's common room wearing a dress and makeup, her hair down around her shoulders, instead of the messy bun and bulky trainee robes she'd been in all day.

She nodded pleasantly to the other faces she recognized before flopping down next to Ron on one of the common room's uncomfortable sofas.

"So where is everybody?" she asked, motioning to the half-full room.

"Arrows were delayed," said Ron. "Something about a labor issue at the pitch? Dam had to stay and made the rest of the team stay too. But they should be here soon." He looked at Ginny. "What a lecture today, huh? I didn't know there were truth potions other than Veritaserum, did you? The Aurors certainly keep them quiet." He frowned. "Do you think it's true that we're going to have to use them on each other and try not to spill our guts?"

"Only with the more benign ones to start," said Ginny. "And only in connection with our Occlumency lessons." She poked her brother in the ribs. "Weren't you listening at all? Most can be fought, with proper training."

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the door opened and the team came marching through. Ginny saw Harry immediately, and was considering whether she should scoot over to make room for him on the sofa when Dam sat down with a groan.

"What a day," he said, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes.

Ginny didn't think she imagined the quick flash of disappointment in Harry's eyes as the rest of the team found places to sit around the room. She looked over at Ron, but there really wasn't any more space next to him, and instead gave Harry a tiny shrug.

He shrugged back and then his face relaxed into a smile. "Dam's been in labor negotiations with the league referees all afternoon, as the Arrows' official representative," he said. "I'm sure he'd love to tell you all about it."

Dam made a rude gesture. "Don't make me hex you, Potter. I don't want to have to think about that crap for another second." He rubbed at his eyes again. "How do people do that for a living, sitting inside a conference room, talking about contracts?" He looked around. "How long is this meeting going to last? I need a drink."

"Not too long, don't worry." A wizard Ginny had never seen before stood up with a witch Ginny recognized as Eleison Clowder. She was a friend of Bill's and a lot of fun to hang out with. She dated the Harpies' Seeker and was one of the only people who knew about Ginny's tryout the previous spring. That she'd kept it quiet even from Bill made Ginny like her that much more. She sat up and gave her a little wave.

Eleison waved back. Then she clapped her hands and the room grew silent. "I'm senior curse breaker Eleison Clowder, and this is one of our newer recruits, Birch Mattis. He's going to be explaining the new wards we've put on the building.

Birch cleared his throat. "Right then," he said. "Umm, Bill Weasley was here the other day, and he improved the detection speed and sensitivity of some of the wards that already exist; so that anyone who tries to do anything improper, whether a spell or hex, or use a potion, will be expelled from the building." He nodded at Ginny. "Like that laundry witch. Now, that potion she carried would trip the wards immediately."

"But what about the ones who just want to sneak in? Like that delivery boy? How do we stop them?" Dam sat forward, and Ginny heard the nerves behind his question.

Birch nodded. "The other ward we are adding is voice-triggered," he said. "Over the course of the next few days, the curse breakers will be capturing an example of the voice of every individual who lives here, and linking it to the ward. You'll have a passcode to speak to enter and exit, and another to use to let people into the building. But they will only be able to get as far as the lobby until the other detection wards assure they're safe.

"Hermione's going to love that," muttered Ron. He raised his hand. "What about people we know are safe? Like those who visit a lot?

Across the room, Harry smirked. "I'm sure Hermione can figure out a way to imitate your voice to get in the building, Ron."

"No, actually she can't." Birch had obviously missed the joke. "Each person's voice is unique; there will be no way to imitate it. That's what makes the ward so powerful, without having to rely on blood wards, which are even stronger, but also more difficult to use in a building like this, with many unrelated people. The voice wards should to the trick."

After signing up for a time to have her voice mapped into the ward by the curse breakers, Ginny joined Harry and Ron and the other Arrows in the corner of the common room. Dam still didn't seem to have gotten totally over his concern about someone breaking into the building. "Can we go now?" he asked. "All this talk of security is making me thirsty." He looked at Ginny. "You said some of your friends are meeting us at the pub?"

Ginny nodded and smirked. "Only blokes; I hope that's okay."

"It is for me," said Kipling, while Dam barked a laugh.

"If that's true, Weasley, then you're going to be the one drinking with me all night." He threw an arm around Harry and pulled him over. "You and Potter, that is. He's needing a witch even worse than me."

"I sincerely hope you aren't propositioning a threesome," said Harry. "You may be my captain but I have to draw the line somewhere." His words were light, but Ginny couldn't miss the way Harry's eyes flicked quickly to her. She tried to match his tone.

"I'm still recovering from the last time you bought me drinks at a pub, Clarke," she said, knocking her hip against Dam. "I think I'll take a pass on any threesomes tonight. Lucky for you, I think I might be able to scare up a witch or two for you." Next to her, Harry's shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Dam nodded. "Good thing, too; Potter's really not my type anyway. And anyway, I need the two of you to keep an eye on things while I get plastered. You know, do your Auror things."

Ginny was only a little surprised that Harry didn't seem to mind Dam's comment. Not many others could refer that way to Harry's past without making him uncomfortable, but there was no suggestion or accusation in Dam's words. He was openly acknowledging his own weakness, something Ginny knew he showed to very few people. Harry caught her eye and they had a silent communication. He nodded.

"Well then, I suppose Ginny and I need to stay sober then. To make sure nothing . . . untoward happens tonight." The double meaning was clear.

Not to Dam though. He laughed. "Maybe not completely sober, I want you to have some fun, Potter, after you played so well this week." He looked around at the rapidly emptying room. "Hey, looks like everyone else has beat us there. Come on."

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The pub was in full swing when the three of them arrived in the back alleyway and Dam immediately broke away to find "a stiff drink and a loose girl, although maybe not in that order." Harry saw Ginny grimace.

"It's mostly an act with him, isn't it?" she asked. "I mean, that night he and I . . . when I said no to more, he stopped immediately."

Harry nodded and opened the door, raising his voice over the sudden rush of noise that greeted them.

"Mostly, yes," said Harry. "He's very aware of his reputation, and does like to cultivate it – it's good publicity for the team – but he's not an ass." He smirked. "Although, if you'd shown interest, he'd have kept going for sure."

The topic was skirting around things he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about with Ginny, but at least they were talking, and it felt more or less normal, he supposed. He gestured to the table where Dam had already sat down and was talking animatedly to Parvati and a a few other women; the big, smoking drink in front of him was nearly empty and he gestured to the server for a second. Ginny shuddered. "Not there, please. I know Dam is a good bloke, but that doesn't mean I want to watch his technique on a willing partner."

Harry grinned. "Or partners," he quipped. _They could do this –it was just going to take some effort. _He knew that Ginny was trying as hard as he was to keep things natural between them, and that made it better. On a whim, he made the decision not to drink that night. Better to keep himself in control. And if Ginny happened to have a couple herself, he'd just make sure he separated himself from her. Not that he thought Ginny might lower her inhibitions around him, if she had a few drinks, he assured himself hastily. If that was a possibility, she'd have already made it clear, right?

"Right." He looked around and nodded at a table dominated by a sea of red. "How about there?"

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Perfect. They need me to explain to Fred exactly why he should just get the fuck back together with Katie already."

"I'm sure that's just what Fred needs," said Harry dryly. "Yet another sibling telling him what to do."

Ginny made a dismissive gesture before weaving around a couple dancing in the middle of the room. "Brothers, what do they know? They're just telling him to get back together with her so he can get laid again."

"That's not all blokes think about, you know. Getting laid, I mean." The second the words were out of his mouth, Harry wished he could bite them back.

Ginny gave him a long look. "I know," she said slowly. The air was suddenly heavy.

"D'you want . . ." she began, just as Harry said, "I didn't . . ."

". . . a drink?" Ginny waved in the direction of the bar. "I need a drink."

She waved to one of the bartenders. "Want a drink first?"

"Yes, definitely," said Harry.

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Ginny took a long pull of her whisky before turning back around. She could tell Harry was trying as hard as she was to keep things friendly and normal between them; she just hadn't anticipated how much work it would be. It was probably worse for her, she supposed. Harry at least had already told her exactly how he felt. She, on the other hand, was still hiding her revelation about her physical attraction to Harry and uncertain about how she felt about anything else. It was taking all her energy not to say the wrong thing, not that she even knew what the wrong thing might be, and it was with no measure of relief that she and Harry finally sat down at the table where Ron, Hermione, George, and Angelina and Bill were peppering Fred with questions about him and Katie.

"Where's Fleur?" Ginny asked as they sat down. "If we're talking relationships, she really should be here."

Bill made a face. "She's not feeling well," he said shortly. He turned quickly to Fred. "So, you said that it's 'too complicated' to try to date Katie, but you haven't said why?"

Ginny filed away Bill's odd demeanor and turned to Fred herself. "Bill's right, Fred. The two of you seemed really happy together, and then, suddenly, you broke up. Why?"

Fred sighed. "Like I said to the others, it's just complicated." He took a sip of his drink and looked away.

Ginny poked him. "Nice try, Fred. That may work with everyone else, but you know I won't accept that." She looked at George and Angelina. "What else do you know?"

"You're asking my own twin to throw me under the Knight Bus?" asked Fred indignantly. By the slight slur of his words, Ginny suspected she'd sat down at the right time to get her brother admit what was really bothering him. She decided to prod.

"Maybe the sex wasn't good enough?"

Fred groaned. "The sex was bloody fantastic. She plays professional Quidditch, remember? Her body's in top shape, and damn does she know how to use it." He turned suddenly to Harry. "Isn't that right, mate? Didn't sex become that much better once you started playing?"

Harry froze. Ginny saw his eyes dart around the table to Ron and Hermione – the only other ones who knew his status – and then sag with relief when he saw they weren't paying any attention. "Umm, yeah," he began. "I guess . . ."

Ginny thought she should change the subject, but all she could think about for the moment was an image of Harry standing in front of her, sweaty from a workout, slowly pulling his jersey over his head. She looked down, took too big of a sip of her drink, and began to choke.

Harry pounded her on the back. "Are you okay?" he asked. He peered in her eyes. "Can you breathe?"

Ginny stared at Harry's eyes longer than she probably should have, before his question registered. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "I just . . . it went down the wrong way." She coughed again, and realized Harry still had his hand on her back. He must have noticed at the same time because suddenly, the pressure was gone. "Can you get me a glass of water though?"

Harry jumped up. "Yes, sure. Hold on." He darted off to the bar.

Fred looked after him curiously. "What's with Harry? He seems nervous about something? Is there another witch after him?"

Bill leaned forward. "We can't ward the building any tighter than it already is," he said. "But that won't help him out in public."

"He's fine," said Ginny automatically. She really hoped her brothers would understand they couldn't continue this conversation when Harry got back. "He's just . . . he had a long week, you know? It was a big road trip." She looked back at the bar. Harry was deep in conversation with Kipling and Adam and not looking back at the table.

"So much for my water," she muttered. But she had to admit it was a bit of a relief to have the space. It seemed like every topic of conversation that came up when Harry was around was fraught with danger.

"Ginny? Isn't that your water?" Fred pointed to a spot next to her ear, where a full glass floated gently, not spilling a drop.

"Show off," she muttered, pulling it out of the air. But she couldn't help but smile.

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A week later, Ginny banged on Ron and Harry's door, wondering if she was making too big a deal out of nothing. She suspected Ron was at Hermione's but the Arrows had been at home all week and she was pretty sure they weren't due to leave again until the morning. As much as she told herself she wasn't paying that much attention to their schedule, she'd managed to run into Harry both in the laundry room and going out for a run in the past days. Their conversations had been perfectly friendly, but safe; Ginny felt even more acutely aware of the fact that Harry was likely waiting for some sort of sign from her. Just that thought made it even harder for her to set aside some time to actually think about what she wanted.

It hadn't stopped her from thinking of Harry when she was in bed though. Fred's comment about Quidditch players had been all it had taken for Ginny's imagination to take off in that direction. Most recently, Harry hadn't even started out wearing his uniform; she'd come upon him in the shower at the Arrows' stadium.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Ginny pounded on the door once more. If the team had already left, she wasn't sure what she'd do next. _Who else do I know who won't ask too many questions about why I need . . . _

The door opened.

"Can I borrow your Pensieve?" The words burst out of her before she was even inside the flat. Harry was holding his travel bag and was dressed in his team robes; apparently they were leaving that night after all.

"Of course," he said immediately. He put down his bag and started towards his room. Then he stopped and turned back around. "Are you able to tell me why? Or do you need to keep it to yourself?"

Ginny appreciated that Harry was willing to give her the Pensieve even if she didn't tell him why she needed it. She would, of course; it hadn't even occurred to her to keep anything from him. Truly, she'd hoped he be home with nothing to do so they could maybe even look at her memories together, and he could tell her if there was actually something there, of if she was just being a typical new Auror trainee, seeing Dark Magic where there wasn't any.

But Harry was obviously about to leave. He'd make an excuse to Dam and get to their hotel late if she needed him; of that Ginny was sure. And she absolutely refused to do that, especially for something that was most likely nothing. She shrugged.

"I ran into a couple of the Bellows sisters at the Ministry today," she said carefully. She didn't mention that Zoya had been with the sister who wore the disguise; she didn't even think she'd mentioned that bit of information to Harry yet. She also didn't mention she'd seen them talking to Shepard Kane. "I can't figure out why they're there so often and I wanted to look at my memories of all the times I've run into them, to see if there's a pattern or something." It was a little vague, but mostly true, and if Harry hadn't been leaving, Ginny would have elaborated about her suspicions, and, more importantly, pushed him to talk more about what he knew. It wasn't entirely fair, she knew. In the back of her mind was the guilty thought that he'd tell her what she asked because he was hoping . . . but no. This was work and nothing else. It was her duty as an Auror (trainee) to try to figure this out.

Harry didn't need to know any of that right now, of course. He just nodded and got the Pensieve, asking her if she was sure she knew how to use it and telling her he'd talk to her about whatever she wanted – if she wanted – when he returned.

Ginny carried the Penseive carefully back to her flat and locked and warded the door. She put her wand to her temple, still not exactly sure how to get just the right number of thoughts to stick on her wand. In the end, she grabbed more than she needed, but dropped them all into the bowl anyway; hopefully she'd be able to sort through the important facts once she was looking at them.

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Ginny emerged from the Pensieve in a daze. Harry had once told her it was useful for helping to clear one's mind when it was crowded with too many thoughts, but Ginny's mind felt anything but clear right now. What she'd seen, the connections she was starting to suspect, the questions she now had – it was a lot to take in. Only one thing she had seen made complete sense, and Ginny watched her thoughts swirl around in the bowl, wondering how it was all going to play out.

Her clock struck the hour and Ginny started; she was already expected at the Burrow for dinner. Hurriedly, she grabbed the end of her wand and returned her memories; it wasn't prudent to leave them around where there was a chance they'd be viewed by . . . someone who shouldn't see them.

She pulled on her cloak and gave her image in the mirror an exasperated look. Her mum would be sure to remark on the state of her hair. Sighing, she said a few charms to smooth it down from the tangle that came from being up in a ponytail all day - better to be another minute or two late. With a last glance at the now-empty Pensieve, she opened the door to her flat. At least she could count on the craziness of her family to keep her distracted while she figured out what to do next.

They didn't disappoint. Her mum was bustling around the kitchen while Angelina and Hermione sat at the table with newly-pregnant Fleur, listening to her explain what exactly happened to a woman's private parts around the start of her second trimester. Ginny didn't need to know any French to understand what _engorgemente_ meant, and the smirk Bill gave her as he walked through the room to grab another bottle of Firewhiskey and kiss his wife was just a little too satisfied for anything Ginny needed to know about her oldest brother. She flicked a napkin at him, happy at least to have his odd behavior at the pub explained.

"Isn't that how you got into this situation in the first place?" she asked with mock irritability. Truly, she was thrilled at the thought of being an aunt.

Bill finished kissing Fleur thoroughly before he answered. "You'll understand one day, Ginny." He fixed her with a teasing stare of his own. "But not for a long time, and nowhere near the Burrow, or me," he said. "And I get to meet the bloke first. Charlie too."

"Why don't you just take him to bed yourself, make sure he's up to your standards?" retorted Ginny. An image of Harry flashed through her mind and she flushed. Did Bill know Legilimency?

Bill snorted. "I'm getting enough already, married to a randy pregnant Veela," he said. "A couple more years, and you'll be able to figure things out for yourself."

"A couple more _years?_ Bill, I'm nineteen." Ginny was no longer sure exactly how much her brother was joking.

Angelina broke in. "Half our training class has a crush on her," she said with a grin. "And possibly an instructor or two."

"What?" yelped Ginny. "Who?" She tried to think back to something Parvati had said the other day. "Copernicus, right?"

Angelina nodded. "And I caught Ernie looking at you too," she said.

Fleur leaned in. "And an instructor? I once 'ad a _dalliance_ with a professor. When I was at Beauxbatons."

"A professor? Isn't that illegal?" Now Hermione looked interested, and even Molly stopped stirring the pot on the stove to listen.

Fleur shrugged. "It might be illegal in England," she said casually. "Not in France."

"And this is where I leave," said Bill. "I've heard this story before, and Fred hasn't drunk nearly enough to forget that he's no longer dating . . . I can't even remember her name, actually. He and Katie really need to get back together. She was a lot better for him." He dropped a final kiss on his wife's head. "Don't corrupt Ginny too much," he said as he left.

"Make sure Fred's still able to sit upright at the dinner table," said Molly affably. She gave the pot a final swipe with her wand and pulled up a chair at the table. "Now, what about this professor?"

Ginny grinned and let the conversation wash over her. This was exactly what she needed, after her earlier revelations. The comfort of her family, the promise of great food, and silly girl talk that had nothing to do with what she might or might not be feeling about Harry Potter.

The fireplace suddenly flared green.

Ginny instinctively grabbed her wand. "Isn't everyone here?" she asked, pointing it at the flames. No one but family should be able to Floo directly into the house.

The figure wobbling a bit as he brushed off his robes wasn't family, but close enough. Ginny could do nothing but stare as Harry, still in his Arrows' uniform, smiled sheepishly at her mum. "Room for one more, Molly?" he asked. "Referees went on strike; League cancelled all matches until they sort things out." He caught Ginny's eye. "I hope it's okay that I came here."

"Like you even have to ask," said Molly, taking his cloak. "Supper's almost ready and the boys are getting Fred pissed in the sitting room. You may want to join them and make sure no one breaks anything."

Not for the first time, Ginny had to grin at the relaxed tone in her mum's voice. She had always had a soft spot for Harry anyway, but after he'd succeeded in killing Voldemort, that fondness had only grown. His eliminating years of worry her mum had endured about the thought of losing her children would do that, Ginny figured. Still, it was still surprising to hear her mother talk about her sons' escapades with witches and drink in such a relaxed manner. Not for the first time, she wondered if her mum's attitude would extend to her only daughter.

_Well, this is not the time to find out. _

Harry caught Ginny's eye again and she thought he was going to say something. They hadn't talked, except casually in passing, since the night at the pub, and while their conversations had been perfectly comfortable, Ginny suspected that Harry was holding back as much as she was.

_Except now, everything was different._

She felt a tiny swoop in her stomach, remembering the Pensieve, and looked quickly away from Harry's gaze. This wasn't the place to give anything away. Suddenly, the crowded comfort of the Burrow seemed too full of people and noise.

"Do you need any help, mum?" she asked, getting up from the table. "Fred especially is going to need to eat soon." Her mum put her to work chopping up fruit for a pie, and the next time Ginny looked up, Harry had gone.

He reappeared with the rest ten minutes later, and there was the typical jockeying for position around the groaning table. Harry ended up at the other end and Ginny wasn't sure whether to be upset or relieved. Fred plopped down next to her, waggling his finger.

"No more about Katie, you hear me, Ginny? No more. They already all took the mickey and told me how she's better than Felicia and I don't want to hear any more about it, okay?" Fred was slurring his words and Ginny shoved the vial of hangover potion she'd swiped from the kitchen and handed it to him. "I know this doesn't work as well when you're still actually drunk, but at least it will give you a fighting chance to explain to everyone why you don't want to get back together with Katie less than two weeks after breaking up with Felicia."

Fred took the vial. "Excep' I _do_ wanna get back with her," he said in a mournful voice that was nowhere near as quiet as he apparently thought. "An' not even because she's the best sex I ever had," he continued. Across the table, George elbowed Angelina and grinned.

"Finally he admits it," he chuckled. Fred tried to throw a roll at George. It missed and plopped into Fleur's water glass. She laughed and banished the mess with her wand before giving Fred a sympathetic look.

"You love 'er, don't you?"

"Of course I love her," said Fred. "But I thought it would be too hard to date a professional Quidditch player. I thought she wouldn't want to be tied down, you know? Or that she'd be on the road all the time. But I was wrong." He looked around the table, and Ginny knew what was coming even before Fred's eyes landed on Harry.

"Harry, you know, don' you? Tha' Quidditch players can have boyfriends? Or, in your case, girlfriends, isn't that right?" Fred popped the top off the vial of potion and downed it. A second later he shook his head and when he spoke again, his words were much clearer.

"All that crap in the magazines, about how much Quidditch players just want a new wizard or witch in their beds every night, it's not really true, is it?" He was still looking at Harry, and the table had gone rather quiet.

Ginny saw Harry swallow. "Umm, right. It's not really true," he said finally. "I think . . . it's just some players who give the entire league that reputation. But there are some . . . more than some, maybe, who . . . want to be in relationships. And they can work, definitely. I've seen it." He was carefully looking everywhere except at her, Ginny noted.

Katie tried to tell me, but I didn't listen." Fred sighed, then jumped up. "I really should go talk to her about it."

"Right now?" asked Molly. "We're about to eat."

"I don't care. It's important." Fred looked at Harry. "Didn't you say the entire league's off for the strike?"

Harry nodded. "She'll be at her flat, I expect. We can't even practice." He took a sip of his pumpkin juice and Ginny noticed his hand was shaking.

"Well, let me at least make you a basket of food to take with you, you shouldn't show up empty handed," said Molly briskly. She stood up and went back into the kitchen. "I have plenty of everything except pudding," she said. "I should have gathered more berries but I ran out of time." She frowned. "Do you think Katie will mind that the shortcake is a little skimpy?"

"I'll get some, I'll go to the garden," said Ginny quickly. She couldn't wait anymore. "Harry, want to come help? I need to ask you . . . about that thing we were talking about earlier." The excuse sounded lame even to her.

Fortunately, the rest of her family seemed more interested in Fred and Katie. Bill and Fleur were offering suggestions about what he should say to her while Angelina jumped up and began straightening his robes and brushing down his hair. George poured him another shot of whiskey.

Harry stood up. "Uhh, sure. Yeah. I meant to ask you . . . about that." He sounded as awkward as Ginny felt. "Do you have a basket or something, Molly?"

They didn't speak for the entire walk to the garden; if Ginny hadn't been so buried in her own thoughts she might have wondered at Harry's silence. But she was, and so she didn't.

She was going to tell him, she knew that. She just wasn't sure exactly how to say it. For a second, she wondered if she should just suggest that they Apparate back to her flat and look at the memories together. Maybe she wouldn't even have to say anything that way; maybe it would be obvious.

"Just tell me already, Ginny. It's fine, I can handle it." Harry's voice broke through the quiet of the night, but it took seconds longer to penetrate Ginny's thoughts. She slowly turned around.

"Tell you what?" she asked. Even though she'd been trying to compose a speech to Harry in her mind ever since he'd stepped through the Burrow's Floo, something about the resignation in his tone made her pause. She stared at him. "What do you want me to tell you?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. He twisted a half-dead tomato vine in his hands and Ginny was suddenly reminded of the way he'd done the same with a corner of her curtain, that first time they'd sat together on her bed and talked. He'd been nervous then, she knew, and having just re-watched that moment earlier in the Pensieve made her understand what he was feeling now. She took a small step forward, all thoughts of Apparating home forgotten. "Harry?"

"Just tell me you've thought about it and . . . you think we should just be friends." He was very carefully not looking at her. His hands twisted again. "I can tell, you know. I know you that well." He looked up for a brief second, and Ginny could see the pain in his eyes. "Ironic, isn't it? That I should know you so well now, now that . . . that it doesn't matter?"

Ginny couldn't ease into what she wanted to say anymore. "I saw things, in the Pensieve," she said quickly. "And it made me realize . . ."

Harry's expression changed so immediately to focused and serious, that Ginny turned around to see who might be creeping up on them. No one was there, but she kept her wand out a moment longer anyway, just to be sure.

"What did you figure out?" Harry's voice was all business when Ginny turned back around "Something about Robards? Or . . . what's his name, Kane?" He frowned. "I thought I'd seen . . ."

Ginny shook her head. "Not that," she said. Then she amended. "Well yes, that, actually. I'm not completely sure what I saw, but certain things started to seem more connected than I realized. Like, things with the Bellows . . ." she broke off; this wasn't what she wanted to talk about right now. "But that can wait," she said firmly. She touched Harry's arm. "I want to show you all of that, all the things I remembered, and get your opinion." She forced herself to look him in the face. "But not now." She took a deep breath. "I saw other things in the Pensieve too."

Harry looked at her curiously. "Like what?"

Ginny tried to collect her thoughts. "Do you remember the first time I ran into you in the laundry room? Right after the first time Robards asked me to recruit you back to the Aurors." She wasn't sure how she wanted to do this, but the images she'd seen in the Pensieve had left no doubt.

Harry looked confused. "Vaguely," he said. "You told me Robards had thoughts about how well we'd work together, because of the Chamber."

Ginny nodded. "I touched you on the arm," she said, for that was the thing she'd noticed the most when she'd reviewed the memory. "It was the first time we'd ever talked about anything important, and then Dam interrupted us."

Harry nodded slowly. "He did," he agreed. "But why does that matter? We talked again not much after that."

"After I snogged Dam at that pub," Ginny agreed. "I think that was the first time."

Harry's eyes crinkled. "The first time what?"

"The first time I really started getting to know you," she said promptly. "I know we talked before that too, but that day, sitting on my bed . . . I was trying to figure out your type, trying to find you a girlfriend. I didn't realize . . ." she broke off, suddenly unsure.

"And then you told me all the reasons that Dam wasn't your type," said Harry quietly. "And we talked about why you and I didn't get along when we were younger. You told me a lot of things I hadn't known. That you'd been jealous of my taking Ron away from you. And that I didn't realize that copying Ron's behavior looked different, coming from me. Because you didn't exactly think of me as a brother."

Knowing what she did now about how Harry felt about her, Ginny wasn't surprised that he remembered that particular conversation so clearly. It had been more than eye-opening to her too, when she'd re-watched it. "I almost grabbed your hand, three times, during that conversation," she said bluntly. "And then, the night you finally told me the truth about the Chamber, I kept touching your arm, and your shoulder." She flushed. This was all coming out wrong. "I wanted to keep talking to you," she said. "I . . . liked talking to you. I still do." She gave him a small grin. "Even when we're trying to dodge crazy fan-witches." She didn't mention what else she'd seen in the Pensieve, how many times her eyes had wandered down that night Harry had been doused with the undressing potion. It wasn't important; Ginny had figured out that particularly attraction already. It was the other things she'd seen, the way she'd leaned in to listen to him, and the way he'd given her his entire attention during their talks. That was what had hit her. Maybe not with the immediate force of a Bludger, but the more she'd watched and remembered, the more she had been certain.

"We've talked a lot lately," she said. "And I re-watched parts of those talks tonight. And seeing them all, jumbled together like that, made me realize . . ." she broke off again.

"What, Ginny?" Harry didn't say anything else, but she heard the rest of his sentence anyway. _Just let me down easy, I can handle it._

"You've become my best friend," she said softly. Harry's lips tightened almost imperceptibly as he nodded.

"That's . . . that's good," he said, equally quietly.

"But that's not all," she said quickly. "Not nearly all." She realized she was trembling.

Harry noticed too. He put his hand on her arm. "What else Ginny?"

Feeling Harry's touch, hearing him say her name, caused another small swoop in Ginny's stomach. She could think of no other way to say it but directly.

"Even if you hadn't told me that you fancied me, hadn't gotten me thinking about it these past weeks, I'm pretty sure I would have realized on my own that I fancy you," she said. She forced her eyes to his. "Maybe not quite as quickly, but I promise, I _would_ have figured it out."

Harry was quiet for so long Ginny started to wonder if maybe she'd completely misread the situation, if maybe he'd changed his mind over the past days. But no, she told herself. She knew he hadn't. He was just absorbing her words, making sure he understood. It was one of the many things she knew she liked about him.

Finally he spoke. "And . . . this isn't your way of . . ."

"No, definitely not," she said firmly. "You know that I wouldn't, that I couldn't, fake anything. Even if I was trying to be nice." She touched his arm. "I'm not just being nice, Harry. I'm being honest."

Harry nodded. "I do know that," he said, and finally, Ginny saw a ghost of a smile flit across his face.

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Harry stared at Ginny, trying to get his sluggish brain to process what she'd just said. He'd spent the entire night, hell, the entire week, and the one before that, assuming she was just moments away from telling him that no, she'd thought about it, and she just didn't feel that way about him. And now she was saying she did? And what's more, she'd apparently come to the realization on her own? He looked at her. There was a small smile playing about her lips; she was trying not to grin outright, waiting for him to get there.

He grabbed her hand, and it felt natural. "Brilliant," he breathed out, and then Ginny really did grin.

"It is," she agreed. She looked back at towards the Burrow. "But now what?" Harry followed her gaze, and then looked down to where the basket the were supposed to be filling with berries had fallen over. There was not much more time before someone would come looking for them. Maybe no one was suspicious now, but one wrong move, once heated look, and everything was likely to come tumbling out. They needed time to think.

"I think we shouldn't tell anyone, not yet," he said. "Let them focus on getting Fred and Katie back together or something first." He knew she'd agree; there was no way that either of them understood exactly what they were yet, and sharing something with her family would give them no peace.

Ginny shuddered. "Definitely don't tell them," she said. "I'm not even sure what we'd say. I need more time to . . . figure things out." She squeezed his hand. "I mean, we need more time."

Harry nodded, enjoying the feeling of her hand in his. _And she's already talking as if we're an 'us'._ "I want to take you on a proper date," he said. "Maybe somewhere far off, in Muggle London where no one knows us."

"In disguises," agreed Ginny. "Transfigured or something." She took a step closer.

"Even better," said Harry. He looked down at her, feeling for the first time that he could look and look and not have to hide it. "And I want to kiss you," he said firmly. He gave a small grimace. "Is that okay? Here? Because I know what you saw in the Pensieve, but what if that doesn't mean that you also . . . you know." He gestured weakly between them.

"Oh, I do," said Ginny, so quickly that Harry startled. Despite the flush crawling up her cheeks she looked directly at him. "I figured that out already," she said. "That day I came to check the wards." Her gaze dropped to his waist for a moment, but Harry didn't think it was entirely out of embarrassment. A little thrill of arousal coursed through him. A second later Ginny looked up.

"I think that's what made it harder for me to trust the rest of what I was feeling," she said. "I wanted to make sure it was more than just . . . a physical attraction."

"It's more for me," you know, said Harry. "It's always been." He felt almost like he was sitting outside his body, watching them both from above.

"It's more for me too," she said simply. "I'm sure of that now."

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Harry raised his hand hesitantly towards her, as if he wasn't quite sure what he planned to do. Ginny took another small step towards him and Harry tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then slid his hand down her cheek. Ginny knew he felt her shiver, and while he was still looking at her as if he couldn't quite believe what he was doing, she slid her own hand down to his waist and pulled him closer. After that, it felt more than natural for Harry to lean in and press his lips gently to hers.

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As soon as they kissed, Harry heard Ginny give a soft sigh, before she sort of melted against him. He made a hum of satisfaction of his own as he wrapped an arm around her and pressed closer, his physical need warring with his understanding that they needed to take things slowly. But he couldn't stop himself from opening his mouth against hers, and a second later was rewarded with the feeling of Ginny's tongue, tentatively exploring his. The spark the flared between them was unmistakable, and Harry's last vestiges of hesitation burned away. Ginny made another sound of contentment and Harry cupped the back of her head with his hand before breaking the kiss and dropping his head to her shoulder with a soft groan.

"I can't believe . . ." he began.

"I know," she said softly. She brushed her fingers against the back of his neck. "I mean, you've been thinking about this for . . . how long? Years? I only just realized . . ."

"Finally realized," broke in Harry. He felt Ginny's chuckle of agreement.

"Finally had it smack me in my thick brain much later than it should have," she said. "We can analyze all the reasons I'm worse at this than even Ron another time. Right now, I'm just trying to figure out why this feels so comfortable." She gave a little shrug. "Proof that I really never did see you as an extension of my brothers, I guess."

"Good," said Harry with satisfaction. She cocked her head to look at him. It was properly dark now, but in the soft light of the garden's warming charms he could just see her eyes and the smile in them.

"This is going to be fun, getting to know each other even better," she said softly. That was all it took. Harry moved his mouth back to hers.

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They finally broke apart, both breathing harder than Ginny would have expected merely from kissing. Her entire body was tingling, and by the way Harry had carefully angled his lower body away from hers, Ginny knew she wasn't the only one feeling suddenly swept away. Harry's eyes found hers, and they were wide and searching. He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear again.

"Okay?" he asked.

Ginny nodded mutely, not sure she could trust her voice. The whirlwind of the last hours made her feel a little bit like she might actually be lying in bed, touching herself to a newly constructed fantasy of her and Harry – _Sneaking off to Snog and more in the Garden – _there was a lot to be imagined there, for sure.

But even her wildest imagination couldn't convey the weight of Harry's hand as it rested against her hip or create the soft smell of warmth and Firewhiskey he breathed against her. And neither of them were pulling off clothes and falling down into the grass for a quick and probably unrealistically contorted shag they way they would if this was just another of Ginny's daydreams. Instead, Harry rested his forehead against hers for a minute, and brushed his hand down her cheek.

"This makes me really happy," he said.

A/N 2: About time, right? I'm really happy with the way this turned out. Hope a few of you enjoy the callbacks to Emergency; I've got more of them planned. :)


	18. And Then A Confession

A/N: This chapter has very little plot. I suspect I won't hear much complaining about that.

When Harry and Ginny finally returned from the garden with their meager basket of berries – Harry impressed with the ease by which Ginny told her mum that 'the warming charms must have gone off and the fruit didn't look ready" – he was certain that everyone was going to know the second they walked through the door. Other than their quick decision not to tell anyone anything, they hadn't had time to figure out how to act, and Harry felt as if he had the words "I KISSED GINNY" blazing across his forehead as obviously as the word "SNEAK" had looked on Marietta Edgecomb's face his fifth year.

But everyone was still talking about Fred – it didn't seem to matter to them he'd left for Katie's – and Harry slipped back into his seat at the table with little fanfare. It looked as if everyone had started eating already, and he quickly loaded his plate from the platters in front of him, picked up his fork, and took a bite of food. He could not bring himself to look at Ginny.

"Harry, I meant to ask, how long do they think the referee's strike is going to last? Could it go on long enough to affect the playoff schedule?" Ginny's voice carried down the table and Harry hoped he was the only one imagining the suggestive tone. He chanced a glance up, forkful of chicken still in his mouth. Ginny cocked her head at him, a questioning look on her face. He swallowed, trying to get his brain to work, and to send the proper message to his lips.

Ginny's lips were kind of swollen, he noticed suddenly. Could anyone else tell? He swallowed again.

"Ummm, yeah, I guess it could," he said lamely. He looked down at his plate again. "Affect the playoffs, I mean." He swiped his napkin at his mouth, trying and failing to stop thinking about lips, and what he'd just done with his lips, and what he wanted to do again, as soon as possible. "Everything is delicious, Molly."

"Thank you, Harry dear," she said. "I'm sorry we didn't wait for you and Ginny. I didn't expect it to be so difficult to find more berries. I'm afraid the potatoes are already gone."

"That's okay," he said weakly. "I've had more than enough."

"Well, I'll pack up the leftovers anyway," she said. She stood up. "A basket for you and Ron, and one for Ginny and one for Hermione?" She waved her wand and the various bowls and platters floated into the kitchen. "And Fleur, you must tell me what foods are tasting good for you this week; I remember how quickly my whims changed when I was expecting." She smiled indulgently at her daughter-in-law.

"Thank you, Molly," said Fleur. "Right now, I crave meat, which is fortunate, because Bill and I can dine together again."

"It's a relief," said Bill, kissing her. "I had to eat all my meals at work for over a month, and shower as soon as I got home, because smells set her off. I can't even begin to tell you how difficult it is to go an entire month without . . ."

"Actually, you can just pack up one basket for me and Hermione," interrupted Ron quickly. He shot his oldest brother a rather proud glance. "We're going to stay at her place for a few days while I help her paint her flat."

"What a lovely thing to do, Ron," said Molly serenely. Harry caught Ginny's eye. Would her mum be so relaxed about the idea of Harry spending a few days holed up with her daughter? Ginny gave him an amused grimace and tiny shake of her head, obviously thinking the same thing. Harry shrugged back, enjoying the fact of their silent conversation.

"Well then, Harry, you get extra cookies. You'll need something sweet for later, don't you think? All alone in your flat like that. Or will it be too hard, to have the temptation? I don't want to ruin your training diet."

Ginny jumped up so quickly her fork clattered to the floor. "I'll help you pack up, mum," she said. "I'd like something sweet too." Harry saw the faint flush on her cheeks as she bent down to retrieve her fork.

"Cookies would be great, Molly," he said as calmly as he could. "I can share with the team, since it looks like we may be stuck in our flats for a couple of days." He stood up slowly, rather wishing he'd not taken off his cloak.

"Have you had your voice mapped for the wards yet?" Bill looked up from where Fleur had been showing him something in a book with brightly colored diagrams.

Harry sat down abruptly before nodding. Ye – yes. Yesterday, actually. They had the entire team down at once. He dared a look at Ginny. "Have you?"

The look Ginny gave him made Harry think she knew exactly why he was sitting again. "Tuesday," she said. "It was no big deal."

Bill nodded in satisfaction. "It will be a little inconvenient at first, but everyone should get used to it soon enough. The advantage over a simple password system is that we don't have to worry about changing the word all the time. Even if someone else learns it, they still can't get in the building." He idly brushed a hand down Fleur's back. "Although we recommend changing the password every three months anyway, to account for people who move in and out."

"Dam asked to pick the first password," laughed Harry. "He chose 'Quidditch' – I think he was worried about having to remember something more complicated." He stood up again. "I uhh, I'd better get going, actually. Probably my turn to listen to Dam complain about the strike." He very carefully did not look at Ginny.

To his relief, she got the hint anyway. "Wait up a minute, and I'll come with you," she said casually. "Since Ron and Hermione are heading elsewhere." She looked into the kitchen. "It's okay, mum, just put everything in one basket for me and Harry; we'll divide it up when we get back."

Harry froze at Ginny's brazenness. _Wouldn't someone get suspicious? _But Molly didn't even flinch. "Thank you, dear," she said. "I'm low on baskets right now. Seems that my children keep forgetting to return them." She handed Ginny the food. "I trust I'll get this back?"

"Thanks mum," said Ginny. "I promise."

"Good girl," said Molly. "Harry, make sure to remind Ginny to return the containers when you're both done with the food, will you?"

Harry swallowed. "Of course, Mrs. . . . Molly. I will."

Molly smiled and patted his cheek. "I know I can trust you," she said.

It was almost too much. Harry barely remembered the rest of his goodbyes; he was certain everyone could see into his mind and know just how much he shouldn't be trusted just then. Only when he was safely outside, surrounded by the cool air and dark night, did he dare let out a breath. Next to him, Ginny laughed.

"I don't think I've seen you that uptight at the Burrow since your very first visit," she teased. As soon as they were a few more steps away from the back door, she leaned gently against him.

After a pause, during which he turned almost completely around and peered back though the gloom to make sure no one had followed them, Harry shifted the basket of food to his other hand and wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist.

"I can't believe no one figured anything out," he admitted. "The things your mum said – I was sure she was taking the mickey or waiting for me to blurt out that I'd just snogged you in the garden."

"She's going to be a grandmother for the first time and it looks like Fred might actually end up with a girlfriend we all like," pointed out Ginny. "And everyone is so used to having you around, I don't think it would ever occur to them that you and I might be anything other than the quarrelsome friends we've always been. Maybe a bit more mature now, but nothing close to . . . whatever we are now." The reached the Apparition point and she looked up at him.

"For the first time, I guess I don't mind being thought of as another brother," said Harry. "If it keeps 'whatever we are now' a secret for a while." He held out his arm. "Think we can go side-along and not spill any of your mum's food?"

"Probably not," laughed Ginny. "And I don't want to risk you crushing the cookies." With a grin, she turned on the spot and disappeared.

Harry grinned back, even though she was already gone, and began counting to ten.

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Ginny waited for Harry at the secure back Apparition point behind their building. For a second, she wondered if he'd be upset she hadn't let him bring her side-along, but then shook her head. She wasn't going to change her behavior for him or start second-guessing anything now, and indeed, when Harry appeared seconds later, he had a smirk on his face. "Guess that means I get all the cookies, then," he said, holding the basket behind his back. "And they smell delicious."

"Prat," said Ginny, enjoying the chance to flirt. She started to reach for him, then remembered where they were and pulled back. "Umm," she said hesitantly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. This would be the second-to-last place, after the Burrow, where I'd want people to see us." He pulled open the door.

"What about the Ministry?" asked Ginny.

Harry shuddered. "Not there either, you're right." He smiled down at her. "I think we'll be stuck in our flats, mostly. At least for now."

That didn't sound so terrible to Ginny and she started to say so when Harry froze. "What the . . .?" he began. Before she could even process what was happening, a cool voice that sounded remarkably like the one inside the visitor's entrance to the Ministry spoke.

"Password Please."

Harry's shoulders relaxed. "Oh yeah, right," he said. "Quidditch," he said clearly into the air.

As Ginny watched, the air in front of them shimmered and Harry seemed to melt through the haze. Ginny went to follow him and found herself stuck in the doorway, pressure pushing at her from all sides. The voice spoke again.

"Quidditch," said Ginny quickly and the pressure receded. She stumbled into the back lobby and found Harry taking deep breaths.

"That was a little more disconcerting than I expected," he said. "Almost like mild Apparition." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I suspect it's because we forgot to say the password as we entered though. I won't forget again."

Ginny finally caught her own breath. "Me either," she said. "I wish Bill had warned us though."

"I wonder what Dam and the others think," remarked Harry. "If it was that disconcerting for us, I can only imagine how he reacted."

"It's worth it if it keeps the Bellows and anyone else who shouldn't be here out of the building," said Ginny. She frowned. "I still need to tell you about what I saw in the Pensieve. I have some questions."

Harry nodded seriously. "I think we should talk about that . . . first," he said. He glanced at her. "Okay?"

Ginny liked the implications of what they might do _next_ after talking about her suspicions. She nodded. "The Pensieve's still in my flat," she said.

She was relieved that they didn't see any of Harry's teammates on their hallway. Even though there were a million innocent reasons Harry might be following her into her flat, Ginny suspected that any reasonable excuse would have flown out of head the moment she needed it. As it was, she felt an odd little swooping in her stomach as she closed the door and added wards, and Harry walked over the metal bowl. He looked at her when she finished and she wondered if he had more protections to suggest.

"I think that's fine," he said, guessing her question. "This building's pretty safe now."

"But you know more," said Ginny. She came and sat down next to Harry on the sofa. "You know a lot of things about the Aurors that I haven't learned yet, that you haven't told me." She touched his hand. "Will you tell me now?"

Harry shivered, then nodded. Ginny could see that his eyes had become more guarded but he didn't look really upset. Still she wished she could just tell him to forget it, that they'd talk later, and that now was the time for activities that didn't require so many words. She forced herself to sit back.

Harry looked at the place where she'd touched him. "I know," he said. "It's all so new, and I want to . . . too." He looked earnestly at her. "A lot," he said. He took a deep breath and seemed to gather himself. "But . . ."

"But that's the easy part," Ginny finished for him. "And if we were going to just stay there, I'd have come over to your flat right after that day I came up to your training session and jumped you right there, Ron be damned."

Harry snorted. "I don't know who that would be worse for, you, me, or Ron."

"We could Obliviate him afterwards," Ginny said. "I'm sure Hermione'd help us. I'm not that good at those charms that affect the mind." She frowned. "Although I guess I'll have to learn them eventually. The Aurors seem to like them."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. He put the basket down on Ginny's coffee table and sat down on the sofa.

"I mean, I feel like I can't talk to Robards for two minutes before he's trying to use Legilimency on me," she said. "And he wanted me to help question those kids at the Quidditch camp by using a mild truth-telling powder on them. I'm sure there are plenty of other things I haven't learned about too." She cocked her head at Harry. "But did you?" She spoke gently, but firmly. "At that camp, you said something about 'preemptive investigations' – what did you mean?" It was one of the conversations she had rewatched in the Pensieve. "Is this about our connection to Voldemort – yours and mine? You mentioned both Robards and Kane were interested in uncovering dark magic before it had a chance to take root."

Harry rubbed at his eyes. "Kane wanted. . . . well, I don't actually know what Kane wanted. I talked mostly about it with Robards, I think," he said. "You saw what he was like at the training camp; he's really concerned with what young wizards are learning at home. It's why he wants everyone to go to Hogwarts, or at least to a formal school. He'd rather deal with a wizard trained at Durmstrang where he knows the curriculum than someone who picked up their knowledge from their parents."

"And has it been a problem? Dark wizards taught at home?" Ginny hadn't heard of many, except those who were taken out of Hogwarts during the war. "Hey, wasn't Dam taught at home?" She sat up and stared at Harry, implications running through her. _Close to Harry, bad at magic, and now, close to her._

Harry barked a laugh. "Now you're really thinking like an Auror," he said. "Robards thought the same thing. Dam's been investigated on multiple occasions – including having some of the 'mind charms' you mentioned used on him. He's clean."

"Well that's a relief," she said, relaxing back against the cushions again. "I'd hate to have to arrest him." She chuckled. "He'd probably find a way to enjoy it."

"He probably would," laughed Harry. Then he grew serious. "Dam's just naturally not very strong at magic," he said. "And I think you know that he recognizes it and tries to hide it."

Ginny nodded. "Which is probably a good thing," she said. "Otherwise I could see a fan trying to take advantage."

"Dam and I have talked about that," Harry agreed. "It's another reason he likes having you hang around; he thinks you'll help keep him safe."

Now it was Ginny's turn to laugh. "Me? What about you?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm to be expected," he said. "But Dam's pretty impressed with you. I don't think he really ever considered that a witch could be powerful before."

"He should talk to Camilla Stalk," said Ginny. "The more I get to know her, the more impressed I am. She doesn't take any crap from Robards or Kane." She leaned forward and grabbed a cookie out of the basket. "Want some?" she asked, breaking it in two.

"Like I'd ever say no to one of your mum's cookies," said Harry. He took the half she offered him and when their fingers brushed, Ginny was once again struck by the tingle that coursed through her. She looked up to see Harry watching her. "What?" she asked, although she had a pretty good idea.

Harry shook his head. "It's just . . . you don't take any of their crap either," he said. "You realize that, don't you?"

He'd scooted closer to her on the sofa and Ginny instinctively leaned in. "I do with Robards," She allowed. "I haven't quite figured out Kane yet though."

Harry frowned. "I never did either," he said. "He was . . ." he stopped and shook his head. "I don't know." He looked troubled.

Ginny wasn't sure what was wrong. "Maybe we should look at my thoughts in the Pensieve?" she said. "I can show you what I saw. It seemed like I ran into the Bellows sisters an awful lot, even when they weren't trying to break into the building. And I'm sure Robards knows them. I just can't figure out the connection."

Harry was still frowning. "Okay," he nodded slowly. "And maybe I can figure out what Kane . . . maybe I can figure him out."

Ginny put her wand to her temple. Once again, she let herself pull out more thoughts than she'd probably need; she wanted Harry to see the same patterns and interactions she had, and didn't want to miss anything. "After you," she said.

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Being inside the Pensieve and observing Ginny's thoughts was more intimate than Harry had expected. She clearly wasn't very adept at pulling out memories yet, and Harry got impressions of feelings and emotions as much as the facts of what Ginny remembered. They talked quietly as they reviewed Ginny's encounter at the apothecary and then a couple of times Ginny had talked to Katerina outside the apartment. He agreed with what she'd thought – that her run-ins with the sisters seemed to coincide with increased attention from Robards or Kane. Nothing seemed solid yet though; and Harry mentioned that they should review Ron's memory of Robards talking through the Floo to the woman they now knew had probably been Zoya. But when they saw the woman Robards had been standing with outside the Ministry elevator, Harry frowned. "She's got the same accent, that's for sure, but I can't believe any of them could be that good at Transfiguration. The subtle details are really good." He sighed. "Maybe there's another of them?"

Ginny groaned. "A fourth Bellows? What do they think they are, Weasleys?" Harry snorted. "That means there's a brother somewhere too then," he said. "I think you should . . ." His voice died away.

For they'd swirled away from Ginny's memories of the Bellows and Robards and Kane and had now landed on the Quiditch pitch where Ginny had gone for her fieldwork. She was watching an image of himself running up and down the stadium steps, and even inside the memory, Harry could hear Ginny's breath quicken and feel the way her body shifted with unrelieved tension at the sight. She been aroused from the start, he realized, aroused from watching Harry. Even before they'd flown together, her body was reacting.

Harry's real body was starting to react too. He drew in a breath, and watched as memory-Ginny lick her lips. Memory-Harry pulled off his jersey as he descended to the pitch, and both Ginnys made almost identical intakes of breath, watching. Harry slipped his hand into hers.

_She said that was the day she realized . . ._

The scene changed.

Ginny was sitting up in bed, still in the clothes she'd worn to the pitch, breathing hard. Her blankets were bunched around her waist, and her hands were still hidden underneath, and even if he hadn't heard her mutter _well that answers that question, _Harry would have known – without a doubt – what she'd just done. He leaned in, pulse quickening. _What had she been thinking about?_

Next to him, Ginny's hand jumped in his.

"Oh, I didn't mean to . . ." she said quickly. She looked at him, and despite the flush on her cheeks, Harry could tell that she was affected too. "I can explain."

"I'd like you to," said Harry. He swallowed, and couldn't help but turn back to see the look on memory-Ginny's face again. "Or maybe, show me?"

At Ginny's quick nod, they rose out of the Pensieve, everything else forgotten.

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Ginny couldn't look at Harry as she hurriedly returned all her memories, wincing a bit as they crowded into her mind. _How could she have shown him that? At least it had been her memory from after, not during. If he'd watched her, during, what would she have done? She'd had to have asked him to . . ._

"What were you thinking about?" Harry's voice was low in her ear.

Ginny took a step back, towards Harry's voice. His arms snaked loosely around her to rest on her hips and pulled her in until she could feel him against her bum. And at that moment, her embarrassment mostly evaporated and something shifted inside her. Sure, she wasn't very experienced, but she also wasn't a child. And this was Harry, for Merlin's sake. Harry, whom she'd known for years, most of them spent unreasonably irritated. Harry, who'd transitioned almost seamlessly to someone she now wanted to seek out more than anyone else in her life. Harry, who was equally as inexperienced as she was and probably even more eager. She'd been avoiding her physical attraction to Harry for a week; he'd been suppressing his for _years_. Even though she knew that this – whatever it was – was more than purely physical for both of them, at that moment, starting with something physical felt like a very good idea to Ginny.

"I was thinking of you, of course," she said, and heard Harry chuckle.

"I should hope so," he said. He rested his chin on her shoulder. "That was right after you were at the training, yes? If you'd been thinking of someone else I'd be rather worried."

"I was thinking of you in the shower," said Ginny boldly. She heard Harry suck in his breath and suddenly the pressure on her backside grew more pronounced. She leaned against it, distracted. Harry's fingers were notched in the hollow of her hipbones and the pressure made her feel heady. "I walked in and watched you."

"And did I know you were there?" Harry's fingers journeyed lower, brushing against the space between her legs before moving back up.

Ginny slowly shook her head. "Not at first, no," she finally said. She wanted Harry's hands to move down again. "You had your eyes closed while you . . . touched yourself." She knew he could hear how her breath quickened.

"I wonder what I was thinking," Harry mused. "Although, I can probably guess." He began kissing along her neck.

Ginny chuckled. "It's my dream; how could you guess?"

Harry's lips stilled for a second. "I may have . . . in the shower," he mumbled. "Once or twice."

Ginny twisted around so she was facing him. Harry's hands moved easily from her hips to her bum but Ginny didn't even need the encouragement of him pulling her closer before she pressed herself into him again. It felt completely different, feeling him against her front, and Ginny wiggled to increase the sensation.

Harry jerked against her. "Fuck, that feels good," he mumbled. He'd buried his head against her neck and was kissing her there again.

"I've never heard you swear before," said Ginny in amusement. She tilted her head back to give Harry more access.

"I've never had something feel that good before," he said, between kisses.

"Is this . . . what you imagined? When you . . . in the shower?"

Harry pulled back and looked at her, his eyes darker than normal. "Not just in the shower," he said thickly. He tugged on her hands, pulling her in the direction of her bed. "Let me show you, and you can show me?" He sounded suddenly shy.

Ginny's body warred with her mind. Her fantasies about Harry usually ended with her mounting him for an intense round of love-making; in the shower, he'd lifted her onto him and she'd wrapped her legs around his waist as he pumped against her. But this . . . whatever it was between them . . . was only hours old, and Ginny wasn't ready to make every single ones of her daydreams a reality yet. She hated to pause before answering, but it didn't matter, Harry had already stopped short and dropped her hands.

"Not for _that_," he said quickly. "Not for everything – for sex. It's too soon for us. I don't want . . ." He took a deep breath. "You weren't thinking we were going to . . . were you? I didn't think you meant . . ."

Harry sounded so mortified that Ginny might have thought he was proposing they have sex right then she couldn't help but laugh. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I know, Harry," she said. "I don't think we're ready either. I know what you meant." She thought for a second, wanting to make her feelings clear. "I need some time physically and emotionally, I think. This is all pretty new for me." She reached up and kissed him, to take any sting out of her words.

Harry kissed her back enthusiastically before pulling back again. "Believe it or not, I need some physical and emotional time too," he said. "Despite the fact that I've been daydreaming about this in one form or another since I was about fifteen." He gave her a wry grin. "_Especially_ since I've been daydreaming about this since I was fifteen. I don't think envisioning you as a mermaid, pulling me into the Black Lake, helped make me particularly ready for an adult relationship."

Ginny snorted. "A mermaid, Potter? Really? That's your teenaged fantasy about me?" She began running her hands up and down his back and watched in satisfaction as he shivered.

"What's wrong with mermaids?" he asked with mock indignation. "They're quite sexy. All that hair floating through the water, you know." He ran his hands through her own hair, letting it fall about her shoulders with a hum of satisfaction.

"Mermaids, or mer-men for that matter, don't have anything below the waist but a big fin," said Ginny with amusement. "How did they have sex?"

Harry stopped playing with her hair. "I didn't say I was a mer-man," he said with exaggerated patience. "Just you. And you were . . . very good with your hands. And mouth." He lowered his own to her lips, and while they kissed, he began guiding her across the room again, stopping in front of her sofa with a questioning look.

"Bed's more comfortable," she said. "Even if I've just discovered that you've apparently been having one-sided fantasies about me for years."

Harry stopped kissing her. "There were others too," he said, grabbing her around the waist and maneuvering them both onto her bed. He managed to scoot them up until they were sitting against the pillows at her headboard. "You weren't always a magical creature." He grinned. "Sometimes you were scantily clad in bits of Quidditch gear." He slipped a hand under the bottom of her jumper. "I think you enjoyed yourself during those."

"Hmm," said Ginny. She turned a bit to give him better access, and a moment later his hand grazed the underside of her bra. He froze.

"Is this okay? I know you said, earlier . . ."

"I said we weren't ready to have sex, Harry," Ginny interrupted him. "I most certainly didn't mean we weren't ready to do _anything_." She exaggerated the final word and very deliberately moved her hand down to his hip and raised her eyebrows. "Is this okay?" she asked in a teasing voice.

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Harry wiggled suggestively underneath Ginny's hand. "Six inches to the right would be even better," he joked back.

"Only six?" countered Ginny. "I know I'm not that experienced, but I thought it'd be . . . it's really six?"

Harry swatted at her with the hand that wasn't exploring the lace of her bra. "That's not what I meant and you know it," he said. They were flirting, he realized, actually flirting comfortably with each other, and it was almost as wonderful as the fact that a second later, Ginny put him out of his misery and moved her hand to the right to cup him through his trousers.

"I think it's going to be more than six soon," she said with satisfaction.

"Guh huh," mumbled Harry. The _is this really happening_ feeling that had been growing ever since Ginny had confessed to him in the garden was working hard to drive all rational thought out of his brain. He moved his own hand up to run across the top of her bra, teasing his fingers under the edge and feeling the softness there.

But they were leaning rather awkwardly against the headboard and there wasn't a lot of moving they'd need to do before they were both lying down instead. Harry was thinking about how to ask Ginny that – his daydreams were taking him to naked skin to explore – when Ginny interrupted his thoughts.

"Is this your first time? Touching a witch there?" She'd already shuffled further down on her pillows, he noticed.

"Well, no," he admitted. He cupped her entire breast and she arched against his hand. "I may have . . . once or twice, but just like this – with clothes still on so I couldn't see anything." He grimaced. "And with Katerina, although in fairness I don't remember much of her."

"You did remove her bra though," said Ginny. She made a show of sitting up and peering around her flat. "I think I still have it somewhere, actually."

Harry groaned. "I definitely do not need to see it again," he said. "I've been glad that that entire night has remained a blur." He reached over and kissed Ginny. "No more talk of the Bellows tonight, okay?"

"Agreed," said Ginny. She snuggled closer to him. Her hand was still cupping Harry's erection and he wiggled against it. "Although," she continued, "I think it's only fair that you and I get at least as far . . . actually, a little farther, than you got with Kat . . . with her."

"We should start referring to them all as _she who shall not be named, _one through four," remarked Harry. Ginny looked at him in surprise.

"I was just thinking the same thing," she said. "But I didn't know if it would be a funny joke; I've never heard you make fun like that before."

Harry carefully put his own hand over Ginny's. She stilled for a moment and then let him show her where and how to apply pressure. Once they'd established a slow but satisfying rhythm, he answered her.

"I don't joke about it with very many people," he said. "Maybe just Ron and Hermione, you know?" Her hand made a particularly satisfying movement under his and he groaned. "Most . . . most everyone else gets uncomfortable." His hips thrust upwards. "Or overly . . . curious."

"So, no diaries as Christmas gifts?" She spoke lightly, but Harry could hear arousal in her voice.

"Exactly," he nodded, unsurprised she understood. He pushed against her again. "But back to our earlier discussion. You said that I need to go farther – tonight - with you than I did with anyone else?"

"It's only fair," Ginny agreed.

"Well then you do too," said Harry promptly. He looked over at her. "Would that be . . . Dam? Was it really just kissing?" For the first time, Harry considered that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Ginny had gone a little farther than merely kissing with the Quidditch captain.

"Well . . ." Ginny hedged. "There may have been some, umm, touching-over-the-clothes too." She spoke quickly.

"Good," said Harry firmly.

Ginny laughed. "I'm glad you finally approve."

Harry pulled his hand out from Ginny's top and sat up. "More for us to do then," he said. He played with the bottom hem of her jumper. "This needs to come off, I think."

Ginny moved her own hand to Harry's belt. "Then . . . I think . . . these do too?"

Harry swallowed. "Okay," he said thickly.

And then, they were lying next to each other, on top of the blankets. Ginny was in her bra and knickers and Harry nothing but his pants, which did nothing to hide his erection. Ginny reached out and stroked it lightly. "Definitely more than six inches," she said.

Harry reached out and touched her bra again. "Can I take this off?" he asked.

He lost track of how long they spent, exploring each other's bodies. Ginny took off her bra but Harry kept on his pants, although when Ginny slipped her hand inside he very nearly climaxed right then. As it was, she heard him swear for the second time.

"I'm going to like getting to know all the ways to make you say that," she said. There was a wrinkle between her brows as she concentrated on the way she moved her hand, and it was exactly what Harry had imagined she'd look like.

"Whatever you want," he said thickly. He'd been able to control his arousal while he was focused on Ginny; lying on his stomach, it had been more than pleasant to grind into the notch of her hip while he kissed down her jaw and to her chest. She liked it – really liked it – when he took one entire breast into his mouth while playing lightly with her other nipple. Harry didn't blame her; he'd liked it too. Focusing on Ginny kept his own needs in check.

But now she was focused on him, and Harry knew it wasn't going to take much to make him lose control. She gripped him the way he'd just shown her and it didn't take much effort for Ginny to find the right rhythm again. She added her second hand and Harry arched up, closing his eyes and pushing hard against her. "Yessss," he hissed. "Ginny, I'm . . . I'm going to come soon."

"Good," she said. "I want you to come." She spoke matter-of-factly, shifting to sit up next to him. The angle changed and Harry cried out. The wet warmth on his stomach was familiar, but the feel of Ginny's hand, continuing to pump him was not. It drew out his orgasm longer than when he was alone, and for a long minute afterwards, he couldn't speak.

"Bet you don't need a mermaid now," said Ginny, amusement in her voice.

Harry cracked open an eye. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" He was coming back to himself, but his entire body was still tingling.

"Nope," she said. She pulled her hands out of his pants. "I assume you know a spell to take care of this?"

"Several," said Harry. He flushed. "Your dad might have taught me and Ron, the summer before fourth year." He chuckled. "But the ones Sirius taught me were a lot more effective."

Ginny laughed too, and once they were both clean, she snuggled against him. "I guess it was a lot more work for my dad, teaching all my brothers," she said. "Mum only had me."

"Was giving a hand job part of her instruction?" asked Harry. "Because you were brilliant at it."

Ginny laughed again. "Hardly," she said. "You've seen how much more relaxed my mum has gotten about my brothers and their girlfriends, but I'm not convinced that ease will extend to her thoughts about me. Even if you're the one I'm with." She ran her hand down Harry's chest. "But you being the one I'm dating will help, I suspect." She looked at him. "Is that what we're doing? Dating?"

Harry dropped a kiss on Ginny's shoulder. "I . . . guess?" he said. "It sounds so, I don't know, 'Witch Weekly' though." He thought for a minute. "I just like to think that we're together. Completely together."

"Together," said Ginny. "I like that." She yawned. "What time is it?"

Harry looked at his watch. "After eleven." He paused. "I should probably go."

"You can stay, if you want," said Ginny. "Ron's not coming home so he won't notice that you're not there." She looked at him. "Not to do anything else, though," she said quickly.

Harry grinned. "Now who's propositioning whom?" he asked cheekily.

Ginny swatted him. "Prat." She snuggled close again. "I just think . . . it would be nice. Waking up next to you."

Harry gave an enormous yawn of his own. "I think that sounds brilliant," he said. "And not only because I'm too knackered to think about walking back to my flat."

"I _did _give you a pretty spectacular orgasm," said Ginny. She got off her bed and rummaged in her dresser for an oversized t-shirt.

Harry sat up, suddenly worried. "But you didn't . . . I mean, I didn't get you to . . ." he broke off. "I can, right now, if you want. I mean, I can try. I'm not sure . . . I've never . . . oh bloody hell." He ran his hand through his hair.

Ginny laughed and tossed him a t-shirt with a picture of a dragon on the front. "This was Charlie's," she said. "It's okay, Harry. Girls aren't like blokes. I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight, even without an orgasm." She pulled back the covers.

Harry pulled on the shirt. "I'm going to use the loo first," he said. He turned back to her. "But tomorrow morning, Weasley. Breakfast, and climax. Not necessarily in that order."

Ginny grinned. "I'm looking forward to both those things."


	19. Interruptions

A/N: I wasn't planning to post just this part - there is actually some real plot coming - but I've got a busy week ahead and I'm not sure when I'll get to the next bit. It's going to take some work to get right and I didn't want to wait another two weeks to post anything. I think this works fine as a light little interlude. Poor Ginny. Also, special thanks to the Ginny Lovers Discord for all their support and encouragement. SUNBEAMS MATTER.

Harry woke up hard. Ginny knew this because she'd been watching his erection grow through the fabric of his boxers while he slept. The morning sunlight had slipped through a crack in her curtains and fallen on her face, waking her at an hour she considered much too early. She'd been about to grab her wand to see if she could bind the fabric together when her gaze had stopped on Harry, and more specifically, on the second place the errant sunbeam had landed. He'd kicked off the quilt she'd given him the night before when he'd asked her for a separate one, explaining, "just so I don't . . . you know."

Ginny wasn't sure exactly what Harry had wanted to avoid, but despite the talking and touching they had done together, and despite the fact she was more than happy Harry had agreed to stay over, a small part of her was relieved when he'd curled up under a separate blanket next to her before closing his eyes.

Only now, that blanket was bunched at his ankles and nearly everything was on display, pushing through the opening in Harry's pants and pointing up at his belly. _Maybe that's why he wanted his own? _Ginny bit her lip. She really should cover him up, one tug would do it. She even went as far to sit up, with the intention of pulling up the covers, but she couldn't bring herself to look away long enough to just do it.

Harry mumbled in his sleep and his hand swiped down between his legs. Ginny didn't have time to move, didn't have time to even think of an excuse about why she was sitting cross-legged next to him, before he opened his eyes and looked at her.

He gave her a lazy smile, and she couldn't help but smile back, before his expression froze as he became aware of what his body was doing.

"Umm," he mumbled, scrambling for the blanket. Ginny almost helped him, reaching down herself, before she stopped. _Should she pretend she hadn't seen it?_ _Obviously she'd seen it._

"Sorry about that." Harry's voice was quiet, but Ginny didn't detect embarrassment. "It's a bloke thing." He shuffled on the bed.

"I know," Ginny responded. "I have all those brothers, you know. They aren't exactly shy about over sharing."

Harry chuckled. "It's not something I grew up talking about in the open, obviously. The first time Fred wandered into the kitchen joking about his 'morning wood' I wanted to crawl under the table."

"You were what, twelve or thirteen? Ron probably wanted to hide under there with you at that age."

Harry yawned and stretched. "Good point," he said. He looked seriously at Ginny. "It's like that nearly every morning. You don't have to . . . I mean, I don't expect . . . he looked at her, still sitting at his waist, and finally blushed.

The knut dropped. "But . . . you wouldn't mind, right?" Ginny asked. She looked away from Harry's face. His arousal was covered now, but Ginny could still see its outline under the blanket, still basking in the light of the sunbeam. Harry shuffled and Ginny watched, rather fascinated, as the lump shuffled too.

"I wouldn't mind, no," said Harry. He shuffled again, and Ginny reached out a hand to cup him. Harry groaned and pushed up against her, and Ginny gripped more tightly.

"Wait," he gasped, and Ginny froze.

"Isn't that what you . . .?" she began. She didn't think she'd misread the situation.

"You first," gasped Harry. He thrust again. "I promised last night – breakfast and orgasm." He made an attempt to sit up.

Ginny pushed on his chest until he was lying against the pillows again. "Something tells me this isn't going to take very long," she said with a smirk. She pulled the blanket down. "And since you just woke up, you won't fall asleep immediately after." She moved her hand back to him. "Isn't that right, Potter?" Remembering what he'd shown her the previous night, she added a second hand.

"That's right . . . Weasley," Harry said thickly. He'd closed his eyes, she noticed, and his back was arched as he pushed against her.

The previous night had been dark, and Ginny had learned her way about Harry's bits mostly by touch. But now, with his eyes closed and the light from the window making it bright, Ginny wanted to see what she was doing. She worked her way to the waistband of his pants and tugged slowly enough that he could stop her if he wanted. Instead, Harry lifted his hips so that she was able to take them completely off.

Considering it was the only penis she'd ever seen, it was really quite lovely, Ginny thought. She moved her hands that way Harry had shown her and was rewarded when he swore again, only this time, he included her name.

"Fuck . . . . Ginny . . . . Wake me up like this every morning," he mumbled, and she felt him pulsing in her hands. "I'm close."

"I know," she said, using more pressure.

Harry came not thirty seconds later and Ginny watched his face the entire time, more than a little proud of herself. It was only when he finally stopped trembling and opened his eyes to smile at her that she realized she was still holding on. She flushed and looked down.

"Why is it still kind of . . . big?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry chuckled as he cleaned them both up. "That's always a good thing to say, you know," he said. "But in this case it's umm . . . well . . . I kind of need to use the loo." He gave a little shrug. "Can you wait?"

"Of course!" Ginny quickly moved aside to give Harry room to slide off the bed. "Are you . . . I mean, should I have let you . . . first?"

Harry picked up his pants, looked at them a minute, and then dropped them back on the bed with a shrug. "Nope, that was perfect," he said. "Orgasm first is preferable, when I wake up that hard at least." He grinned. "Otherwise I'm likely to pee on the ceiling."

Ginny snorted. "I think I've heard my brothers joke about that," she said. "I just never quite understood what they meant."

Harry reached down and kissed her lightly. "I'll be just a minute."

Ginny kissed him back, not even caring that neither of them had brushed their teeth. "Actually, I'll go too, after you're done."

Harry nodded. "And then, orgasm time," he said.

HPHPHP

Harry waited more than a little impatiently for Ginny to emerge from the loo. Granted, she'd only been inside less than a minute, but his sense of _wanting to make her come_ was strong enough that he started feeling a little aroused again himself. He looked down. _Don't let yourself get carried away, _he lectured sternly. At least, he amended, not until Ginny had gotten there first. It wasn't going to be easy. Harry wondered exactly how long he and Ginny would have to be together before he wasn't in a constant state of near-arousal from just thinking about her. He'd been able to control himself when she was just a hopeful fantasy, but now that his libido was actually getting some relief, it was already getting greedy. He was trying very hard not to think about exactly how long would be proper to wait before he brought up the topic of actual intercourse – if there was a proper time to wait – and considered that maybe he should let Ginny lead the way on that discussion.

But Merlin, he just really wanted to spend some time alone with her. As much as his body wanted the physical release, the rest of him was thinking less about orgasm and more about another of those all-night talks, curled up on her sofa, or a big dinner at the Burrow where everyone already knew and they were as comfortably a couple as Bill and Fleur. Or . . . Quidditch. She didn't have to tell him – Harry knew she missed playing – and he harbored no guilt at the thought of using his current celebrity to give Ginny the opportunity to get back in the air. He'd talk to Dam, maybe make up some story about Ginny needing to keep her skills on a broom sharp for work.

Actually, she probably wouldn't want Harry to get Dam or anyone else involved, he amended. Maybe they'd just go for a fly together for now, and save time with the Arrows for later. He could just . . .

Harry was so involved in his plans to spend time with Ginny that he barely noticed she had finished in the loo until she plopped down on the bed next to him. She was wearing knickers and a big t-shirt, and eyed him with interest.

"Clothes still optional, then?" she asked lightly. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor.

"Yes, please," said Harry thickly. He couldn't stop looking, not that he even tried. _Ginny's breasts are perfect_ was such a cliché thing to think but truly, it summed up everything his brain was capable of at the moment. He couldn't know if all breasts were as evenly matched as Ginny's were, or if their darker centers were particularly inviting of touch but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out. He brushed his fingers across one nipple, watching as it puckered underneath his hand.

Ginny shuddered and leaned back onto the pillows. "Do that again," she said. She was watching his hands, and Harry saw her tongue dart out and lick her lips. He adjusted himself, unable to hide, and Ginny's gazed flicked lower.

"Again?" she asked. Her mouth quirked.

"Ignore it," said Harry firmly. He considered covering himself with the quilt but decided that would be silly; he wasn't fifteen. He gave her a sheepish grin. "It's just that, umm, your breasts were one of the first things I umm, thought about. Back then."

"Back when I was a mermaid, you mean." Ginny's voice was carefully nonchalant but Harry could hear the amusement in it.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" He brushed across the other nipple and watched in satisfaction as it copied the first. Ginny arched her back. "It's okay if you can't answer right now," he said with a smirk. True, he'd only managed to provoke the kind of physical reaction that could be equally accomplished with a cold breeze, but he was proud anyway. He cupped each breast in a hand, trying to memorize the weight and feel of each one, and then dipped his head.

"Just be glad . . . oh Merlin," she said breathlessly. Harry looked up at her, mischief in his eyes, from where he'd just run his tongue across her skin.

"Lost your train of thought then?" he asked. "What should I be glad about? Other than all this of course." He gestured casually around Ginny's bed.

"That my brothers don't know," she said quickly. Her hands were in his hair and Harry was pretty sure she was trying to keep from pushing his head back to her chest. He grinned. "That'd be dangerous for both of us," he agreed. He bent down again. One hand was still cupping Ginny's breast, and as he kissed, Harry let the other drift slowly lower. He was pretty sure she'd be okay with where he was going; he'd promised her an orgasm, after all. Still, he didn't rush, giving her the chance to get used to each new place his hand tickled and the opportunity to stop him if she wished.

She didn't stop him though, and before long, Harry had nearly forgotten about the attention he'd been paying to the area above Ginny waist. He rested his hand lightly on the mound of knicker-covered parts and felt an answering jolt of heat between his own legs.

He had to adjust himself again, and took the moment to consider whether to dip his hand inside Ginny's knickers or just take them completely off.

Ginny decided for him, pushing at them restlessly until they slid down to her hips.

Harry tugged them the rest of the way off. "Impatient, are we?" he asked. He'd propped himself up on his side next to her, staring at the patch of red that had until recently been covered by a scrap of cotton. Ginny's knees were bent and Harry carefully returned his hand to the juncture of her thighs.

Ginny made a contented sound. "I'm losing track of how many times you've climaxed in the past days," she said. "I'm entitled to some impatience."

"Yes ma'am," said Harry cheekily. He contemplated things for a second. He could ask her where to start, of course, and truthfully, he expected to need some help with the details, but wanted to try on his own first. Ginny shifted on the bed and her legs parted a bit. _Well okay then._ Harry sat up a little more for better access and gave an exploratory swipe with a finger.

"Harry!" Ginny's cry sounded more surprised than Harry expected and he immediately pulled his hand away. "What, did that hurt? I thought I'd barely . . ."

"No," she said frantically, pointed at the end of the bed. "Ron!"

Harry whipped around, grabbing at the blankets and trying to figure out if there was any way to spin the situation, a denial already on his lips. But it wasn't Ron, just his Patronus standing by the footboard. Harry's heart was beating out of his chest but he couldn't help but notice the terrier opening and closing its mouth, but making no sound.

"Do you think something's wrong?" Ginny had sat up and grabbed her wand. Despite her tousled hair and nakedness, she was already all business.

Harry began Accio-ing his pants and the trousers he'd worn the night before. "Not sure," he said tersely. "We need to figure out where he is. He should be with Hermione, shouldn't he?" Already his mind was racing, wondering at the danger of alerting the wrong people by sending a Patronus of his own. There were ways to try to find where Ron was, but they took time and had their own risks as well.

Next to him, Ginny was getting dressed as well, her face tense as she watched the Patronus. "Why can't it speak?" she muttered.

A second later, her question was answered. "S-s-s-tuck," it gasped, Ron's voice sounding breathless and frantic. "Back . . . back lobby. Can't . . . get . . . in." He sounded like he was straining against something heavy.

Ginny's entire body relaxed. "He forgot the bloody password," she said, rolling her eyes. "Assuming he ever got registered with the wards in the first place. Do you remember if he said he'd had, when we were at the Burrow?"

"I wasn't really paying attention to your brother," said Harry dryly. He said the spell to send his Patronus. "But if he didn't, he won't be able to get in, even with the password I just sent, right? We should know in a minute if it worked."

After a minute of silence, unpunctuated by a message from Ron informing them that yes, he'd gotten into the building, Ginny sighed and looked down at the jumper she was holding, then back at the bed.

"I know we should rush right down there, but . . ." She shivered, and Harry could see the need in her eyes. "Damn his timing." She gave Harry a hopeful look. "Unless you remember what Bill said about how to let in a visitor?"

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lightly on the forehead, trying to ignore his own desire to pull them both back onto the bed. He sighed. "It only works at the front entrance; sounds like Ron's already caught in the ward in the back." He shook his head. "We'd better go down there."

It didn't take them long to release Ron from the ward and get him into the building. Once he'd stopped panicking and stayed still, the ward recognized Harry and Ginny and the same cool female voice gave them directions for freeing Ron and letting him inside. He took several deep breaths before thanking them sheepishly and then sending a Patronus to Bill about getting his voice registered.

"That's bloody uncomfortable," he said, stretching his arms over his head to get the blood flowing again. "Good thing you got my Patronus, Ginny. Who knows how long I would have been stuck there."

"It . . . surprised me," she said weakly. "I was . . . uh . . . I was asleep." She was carefully keeping her distance, Harry noticed. He took another step away and tried to look equally tired.

Ron nodded. "It's early," he agreed. "But Hermione was out of coffee and I knew we had some of that blend she likes in our flat. I was going to try to have some made before she woke up." He stopped suddenly.

"Harry," he said, looking over. "How did you know to send a message with your stag? I sent my Patronus to Ginny. Didn't know if you'd be out for a run or something."

Harry froze. Next to him, he heard Ginny swear but he didn't dare look at her. _How could he have been so careless? _

"He'd just come to my flat," said Ginny quickly. "We were . . . going to run together."

Ron's forehead wrinkled. "But didn't you say . . .?"

Harry breathed out, seeing the flaw. "But . . . Ginny was still asleep, like she just said," he interrupted. "I . . . uhh, I woke her." He made was he hoped looked like an annoyed grimace. "I had to bang on the door for over a minute before she woke up." He knocked his hip against hers. "Set an alarm next time, okay?"

"But . . ." Ron was looking curiously at Harry. "Why aren't you in your running clothes?"

He heard Ginny swear under her breath again. "I asked him the same thing," she said coolly, looking Ron in the eye. "He told me 'he didn't trust I'd be awake so he didn't bother getting ready first.'" She rolled her eyes and it was so real Harry wondered for a wild moment if he'd actually done something to annoy her.

"Well you weren't were you?" he shot back. "If I hadn't kept knocking and just left you to sleep, I'd have already run a couple of miles by now."

Ginny's mouth quirked and for a moment Harry was distracted by her lips. "And if I'd been ready to go immediately, Ron would still be stuck downstairs, so it looks like it all worked out, didn't it?"

"It worked out for Ron," agreed Harry. He glanced at his friend, who was still rubbing his eyes and taking deep breaths. "But not really for me; I haven't gotten in my run." He lowered his voice. "Did it work out for you?"

He heard Ginny suck in her breath. "Not for me yet, no," she said, equally quietly. She looked at Ron too. "And I'd been hoping for a really . . . intense run." She glanced up at Harry. "Do you think there's still time?" Her tongue darted out for the briefest second. "I don't think it should take too long."

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, there should still be time for a quick but . . . intense run," he said. "That sounds great, yes. A run." The lift arrived. Ginny gave him a curious look as he sidled in sideways, turned halfway away from Ron. Then she bit back a snort.

"Again?" Harry barely heard the question Ginny breathed out; he was sure Ron couldn't. He shrugged.

"Like I said, I really need to get that run in," he said in his normal voice. He thought quickly. "How long will it take you to get ready? How about if I come to your flat to uhh, stretch, once I'm dressed? And then we can go . . . out for a run."

"Yes, let's stretch," said Ginny immediately. "I have some new ones to show you that I read about. Ones that are good to do before a run." She took a breath and Harry saw a flush climb her cheeks. "How about . . . in my flat so we don't bother Ron?"

"Won't bother me," he said amiably. "I'm just going to grab the coffee and get back to Hermione's." He looked at them both in turn. "Unless you want me to brew you some first?"

"NO." Harry and Ginny spoke in tandem.

Ron shrugged. "Well okay then, I thought you liked my coffee."

"We do," said Ginny quickly. "Just . . . not right before a run."

"I'll leave some with a warming charm on it then," said Ron. "For after."

"That sounds great," said Harry, trying to put conviction in his voice. Truly, he wasn't thinking about much more than how long it would take to change into something that would pass for running clothes and then getting himself back to Ginny's flat to take off those running clothes. "I'm sure we'll be happy for the coffee . . . after." The lift arrived on their floor.

"Harry, there you are!" Dam's voice boomed across the corridor. "Time for a team run, sound good? If we can't be playing, at least we can keep up our training." The Arrows captain was bouncing on his feet, clearly a day without Quidditch was already making him twitchy. His eyes lit up. "You can come too, Ginny," he said. "The blokes all work harder when you're around. What do you say?"

"That sounds . . . lovely," Ginny said. "Harry and I were just talking about going for a run. I'll just, umm, go to my flat to change." She touched Harry lightly on the arm. "I guess I'll have to show you those new stretches another time?"

He nodded firmly. "Another time," he said. "But soon. I don't want to risk pulling a muscle or anything by not warming up properly."

Ginny nodded quickly. "Sounds good, I'd like that." She looked at him a long moment, as if she was about to say something, and then shook her head. "I guess I'll meet you all back here then? In . . . ten minutes?" She shifted on her feet.

Dam snorted. "Make it five; it can't take you that long to get dressed, can it? What do you need ten minutes for?"

Harry saw Ginny flush. "Nothing. I don't . . . I don't need that long." She caught Harry's eye again and he swallowed involuntarily. "I'll be here in two."

Dam nodded. "That's more like it," he said. He smirked. "Better get ready, this is going to be an _intense_ run."

"Intense, yes," said Ginny faintly. "I think . . . I think that will be a good thing."

Harry forced himself to turn towards his own flat. "Meet you here in two," he agreed.


	20. Tension and More Tension

A/N: I feel like a broken record, saying again that I didn't end this chapter where I expected. Actually, this entire chapter was kind of a surprise; I wrote a bit here and there, thinking I was just creating little scenes that were leading up to bigger action, and all of a sudden, I had over 7,000 words. Some are plot, some are glue, and some are just, I don't know. But there is more plot and more sexy stuff coming soon.

Also, this is for WinglessFeather: I stayed up extra late to get this posted before tomorrow. :)

HPHPHPHPHPHP

And then, Ginny didn't get another chance to see Harry alone the entire weekend. The magical paint Hermione and Ron used on her walls gave off strong fumes, and Harry and Ginny returned from their run with the Arrows to find the other couple unexpectedly curled up on the sofa in Ron and Harry's flat. They were eating the leftovers Harry had brought home from the Burrow dinner and looked to be settled in for the rest of the day.

Ginny couldn't help but glare at her brother. "Didn't mum send you and Hermione with enough food to her flat?" she demanded. "Do you really have to come here and eat Harry's too?"

Ron shrugged. "Painting makes me hungry," he said through a mouthful of chicken.

Ginny harrumphed. "You mean, getting caught in the wards because you're too busy with your girlfriend to bother registering your voice makes you hungry," she retorted. "Honestly, Ron, Harry and I should have just left you stuck there a while longer while we ate the food ourselves before you got to it."

She knew she sounded petulant, but she couldn't help it. The run with the team had been more enjoyable than Ginny had anticipated – burning off the excess energy from Ron's interruption and clearing her head. She had talked comfortably with Dam and Harry and the others as they each took turns sprinting to the lead and then falling back to yell encouragements and jokes. But close to the end of the route, Harry had jogged up next to her. To an outside observer his proximity was random; he didn't even acknowledge Ginny on his right as he apparently scanned the path in front of him. But she heard his subtly cast Muffliato and saw the slight stutter in his step as he slowed his pace to match hers.

"_I'm working up an appetite," he said casually, hardly sounding winded. "You?"_

_Ginny was pleased that her reply was equally steady. "I've been hungry since I woke up," she responded. She glanced up. Harry was still looking off into the distance, but she saw his jaw tighten as he tried to hide his smile. He nodded quickly. _

"_I've got that . . . basket your mum sent over that I need to return," he said. "Why don't you stop by and get it?" He looked down at her for a moment. "Unless you umm, need to shower first?" His eyes didn't give anything away but his voice did._

"_I do need to shower," Ginny agreed. "But . . . I'm having trouble with the temperature control in my bathroom; it's always too cold or too hot. Maybe I could . . . use yours? Just for today that is; I'm getting it fixed. I mean, I need to get it fixed. But not today, since it's a weekend. I just thought. . ." She trailed off, only half-hoping she didn't sound too eager. It was a magical building; the water temperature was controlled by a series of spells built into the foundation and it was impossible for only one bathroom to break. _

_But Harry nodded seriously. "Good idea," he said. "Showering with . . . I mean, in . . . my loo." Ginny saw him swallow hard. "I have plenty of hot water. You can shower as long as you want."_

And then Dam had yelled something about a final race to the building just then, and Harry had lifted the Muffliato before dashing off after the team. He'd made a loud comment about giving Ginny her mum's basket as she followed him to his flat – leaving out the offer of a shower – and no one had batted an eye. She was already mentally considering whether she needed to invite Harry to join her in the loo or just get in herself and assume he'd gotten the hint and would follow her shortly. And then, Ron and Hermione were there and all thoughts of showers and snacks and Ginny's own time on the couch with Harry flew right out the window

"Didn't your mum send you a basket of food of your own?" asked Hermione. "Why would you need to eat Harry's?" Hermione asked her question with characteristic practicality, but Ginny couldn't help but feel flustered.

"That's not the point," she said. "Harry might have been planning to eat after his run. Or . . . shower. And then eat. He may not have expected to come back to a . . . a . . . flat full of people finishing his supper." Ginny harbored no illusions about the real reason she was annoyed to be confronted by her brother and his girlfriend, and that it had nothing to do with food. They looked beyond cozy, sitting together under a single blanket, eating ginger cookies without a care in the world.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I live here," he pointed out. "We're hardly a flat full of people." He gestured at the basket. "And there's plenty left. Now that Harry's not playing, I can't imagine he's going to be doing anything to work up much of an appetite." He looked over at Harry. "Isn't that right? You can't be as hungry as when you're playing matches every day."

"I'm okay," Harry shrugged. He was very carefully not looking at Ginny, although she noticed a faint blush climbing his cheeks. "But that was a long run we just had. I'd expected, umm, I mean, Dam has us working out a lot. He wants us to be ready when the strike's over." He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet but this time, Ginny suspected it wasn't from nerves.

"I don't think I could handle another workout today," said Ron dramatically. He elbowed his girlfriend. "Isn't that right?"

Hermione elbowed him back. "Oi, Ronald, that's you sister and your best mate, they don't want to hear about all that."

Ron grinned back at her. "I was talking about all the painting," he said with a smirk. "What exactly were you talking about?"

Hermione groaned, but didn't look particularly upset, just gave Ron a quick kiss.

Ginny stifled a grimace. She bet Hermione wasn't feeling frustrated at all; hell, she'd probably had a half-dozen orgasms that weekend already. And now it looked like Ginny wasn't even going to get one, unless she – quite literally – took matters into her own hands. It wasn't like she and Harry could come up with some excuse to steal away to her flat for a while, could they? She caught Harry's eye. He seemed distracted, and Ginny realized that yes, he was also trying to come up with a reason for both of them to leave. The basket that had been the subject of their original excuse was currently sitting on the coffee table, being picked through by Hermione. There was no way Ron would believe that Harry needed to use Ginny's shower, but maybe they could say . . .

A banging on the door interrupted Ginny's thoughts.

"Potter, are you in there?" Dam sounded like he was practically yelling through the keyhole.

Harry flicked his wand and the door swung open. "Well, since you saw me enter, what, two minutes ago . . ." he said with a grin. He shot Ginny a quick look and she knew that no excuse would be enough to get her and Harry alone that day. Indeed, Dam had arrived with the news that the strike had ended and the team was expected back at the Arrows' stadium immediately.

"Good thing we already had our workout, no?" he asked cheerfully while Harry gathered his equipment. "We can get right up into the air." He pointed at Ginny. "Too bad you can't come fly with us, huh? Since you already had your workout too."

"Can she?" asked Harry casually. He walked over to where Ginny was standing and bent down to pick up a pair of trainers so she couldn't see his face. "It might be good practice." He didn't say how Ginny's being there would help the team but Dam didn't seem to notice. He was shaking his head.

"Nah, team management won't like it," he said. "Once was okay, for the Aurors, but they like to keep our practices private for the most part." He waggled his eyebrows. "You know, in case Weasley wanted to steal our best moves and sell them to another team."

"I've already seen your best moves," Ginny smirked. "You'd better double your practices."

"Oh ho!" laughed Dam. He lifted his hands in surrender. "If my moves aren't good enough we'll just have to find you someone else then. I haven't seen you dating much, have I? You're nearly as celibate as Potter here."

"Try more," muttered Ginny under her breath. Harry chuckled softly. He bent down again as if to rearrange the gear in his bag and she felt the light pressure of his touch on her calf. It wasn't much, but she couldn't help but shiver. The pressure increased for the barest moment and then was gone as Harry stood up.

Dam was still talking. "Well it sounds like the schedule's rearranged and we'll be in Bristol on Thursday before a day off on Friday. I love the pub there – it's right next to the arena – The Draper's Arms." He grinned. "Hopefully I'll be draping my arms around a witch or two before the night is over." He looked over at the sofa. "You two are invited too, if you can pry yourselves apart long enough."

Ron waved distractedly. "We'd love that, I think." He looked at Hermione. "Right? We'd love to meet the team at the pub in Bristol? I think it sounds fun."

Hermione gave him an approving smile. "It does sound fun, especially since you asked me first," she said. She didn't quite pat his arm, but the intent was there in her voice.

Ginny caught Harry's eye and couldn't help but grin. He grinned back. "Ickle Ronniekins, finally learned how to think about his girlfriend first," he said. He flushed suddenly and Ginny knew exactly where his thoughts had gone. Harry was still standing close to her and Ginny felt a pulse of tension in the space between them, and an almost overwhelming impulse to take the step forward that would allow her to lean into his chest, much the way Hermione was now leaning into Ron. It wasn't a sexual need – although Ginny knew that feeling wasn't far below the surface – but the physical desire for closeness she wanted. She forced herself to move back. _Not now._

Harry gave her a tiny nod and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. "I'm ready," he said to Dam. He turned once more to Ginny. "If I get back and Ron's eaten all my food, I'm coming to your flat for a refill," he said lightly. He tilted his head away from the rest of the room and gave her a quick, knowing look. Ginny nodded.

"I'll be sure to put in an order with my mum," she promised. "And we won't let Ron anywhere near; we'll double the wards if we have to."

Harry's eyes darkened and Ginny saw him shudder. "I'm . . . I'm looking forward to it," he said thickly. "More of your mum's cooking, I mean."

"Play well, mate," called Ron from the sofa. "See you in Bristol."

"See you," said Harry. "You too? Are you coming to Bristol?" his asking of Ginny seemed almost an afterthought as he followed Dam to the door.

Ginny nodded. "I'll be there."

HPHPHPHPHP

That night, alone in her flat, Ginny considered taking care of the sexual tension that had been coiling in her belly all that afternoon after Harry left. But something held her back. It wasn't embarrassment or self-consciousness; if anything, having real feelings and memories to draw on made her more eager. But dammit, she wanted the real thing. She knew that touching herself that night – or any night - wouldn't at all diminish her enjoyment when she finally was able to feel Harry there instead, but even so, she wanted to wait. The anticipation was enough for now; she made no promises to herself about how she'd be feeling by Thursday.

She was about to roll over and try to sleep when a tapping on her window startled her. An unfamiliar owl sat on her sill, and after she removed the scroll from its leg, it hopped down onto her bed and sat looking at her.

The note made her smile.

_I love your brother like, well, like a brother, but damn is his timing the worst. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry we didn't get to finish what we'd started. Well, what we almost started – I guess you're even more sorry than I am, aren't you? At least I got to, you know. And I want to return the favor. Really, really want to return the favor. More than once, if that's okay. Which I know you know, but I wanted to say it anyway. How many days until Bristol? Too many, as far as I'm concerned. Hope work isn't too bad this week. Don't let Robards give you trouble. - Harry._

Harry wrote the way he talked when he was excited about what he had to say and she touched the parchment, hearing his voice in her head and staring at the messy words for longer than was necessary to absorb their meaning. The owl made a soft hooting sound and Ginny nodded and then quickly ripped off the bottom of the parchment. "Where's a quill?" she muttered to herself, sifting through her bedside table. The owl made another noise and flew over to Ginny's desk, returning with the implement in its beak.

"Smart bird," said Ginny. She ruffled its feathers.

_Dear Harry,_

_I meant it when I said I'm going to ward my flat until nothing – and no one – is able to get in, once you return. I can wait until then, but just barely. Play well, __for me__, just, play well I mean. I know you will. We'll celebrate either way, okay? I'll see you in Bristol._

_Love, Ginny_

She stared for a long moment at her closing, and then shrugged. She always signed her letters that way. Let Harry interpret it however he wanted; she doubted he'd mind.

After giving the owl a bit of cracker and sending him on his way through the window, Ginny flopped back on her bed and doused the lights. She was sure it was probably her imagination, but now the very air above her bed seemed to smell like Harry. Had he somehow imbued the parchment with his scent? She shook her head. It was nothing; he'd slept in her bed the night before, so of course she could still smell him. She turned onto her side and looked at the pillow where he'd laid; it was still dented. Without really thinking about it, Ginny grabbed the pillow and inhaled. _Yessss. _ Her earlier promise forgotten, she let her hand wander into her knickers. Harry would likely be at his hotel now. Maybe he was lying in bed too, thinking of her. Her hand began to move.

HPHPHPHP

Harry read Ginny's reply with a smile. He could see the words she'd crossed out – maybe she'd considered them too forward? He didn't care; he'd play well no matter what, but knowing that he had Ginny waiting at the end would give him just a bit more incentive. His mind danced over her promise of a celebration to the "love" she'd signed the note with. He didn't know whether that was her common sign-off, but he somehow doubted that it was something she'd saved just for him. Not yet, anyway. Lavender had signed every silly note she'd sent Ron with flowery sentiment back in their sixth year and the memory still made Harry cringe. But in Ginny's hand, and after a note that was more practical than mushy, it seemed entirely appropriate. He slid back to the last sentences. How would they celebrate? Did she mean immediately, in Bristol itself? In the pub there? Certainly Ginny knew they couldn't sneak off right away; they'd have to keep up appearances. But the pub had plenty of private nooks and hidden crannies, if Harry remembered correctly. Perhaps they'd be able to . . .

Harry didn't even remember grabbing himself but he was already quite aroused. It didn't feel anywhere nearly as good as when it had been Ginny's hand there instead, but at least he had a real memory and didn't have to invent anything anymore. He let his head fall back on the pillow. Where would she be now? It was getting late. Had she gotten into bed after responding to his owl? Was she thinking about him? About how she wanted to _celebrate? _His hand began to move.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny wedged the pillow more tightly between her thighs. It didn't feel much like when she'd clenched herself around Harry's leg, but it was the best she could do. She touched herself lightly, and then pulled away, stroking and tickling instead of diving right to her clit. She imagined Harry might show similar gentleness, when he finally got the chance to try. Damn, she wanted him to have the chance to try. Her fingers brushed lower. Thursday seemed forever away. And not just any time Thursday; it occurred to Ginny that it would probably be _late_ Thursday, maybe even early Friday, before she and Harry would be able to slip away. She should have made some excuse not to come to the pub at all, and waited him somewhere else. Like this bed, for example. She wouldn't need the pillow then, and she certainly wouldn't need her hand. Harry's would be there instead, and he'd probably be a delicious mix of eager and clumsy as he worked on bringing her to climax.

_Maybe she would have to use her hand after all, to show him what to do._ That could be fun, actually. Helping Harry. She bet he'd be a quick learner though. She slipped a finger inside and closed her eyes, trying to picture what Harry was going to look like when he was finally able to touch her for more than a second or two. He'd be hard, that was certain. Maybe his penis would be resting against her leg, and she could stroke it while he attended to her. Maybe she could get him to . . .

HPHPHPHP

Harry groaned. His hand pumped faster, but in his mind, Ginny had lowered her mouth to him instead.

_But I got her to come first,_ he promised himself, feeling the need to be fair, even while wanking. He didn't know for certain if Ginny would even want to give him head, but he was sure it wasn't going to happen before he'd spent quite a bit of time bringing her to climax first.

_But she'll want to eventually . . . I hope. _He gripped himself more firmly and then tickled across the tip, feeling the bead of wetness there. _Would they be in her flat? On her bed? _It would certainly be more comfortable than somewhere in the pub. Damn, he just wanted the chance to try.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny moved her hand faster and put her thumb on her clit. In her mind, Harry had found the spot himself, and all thoughts of touching him at the same time flew out of her head. _He can wait, he'll get another turn. _Right now, Ginny just wanted her own release.

HPHPHPHP

Harry came with a grunt, keeping his eyes closed as he felt the warm wetness cover his chest and hand. He sighed, feeling himself deflate as quickly as he always did when he wanked. With Ginny, the pleasurable feeling had lasted longer, and just having her close had made him feel like he was in a constant state of near-readiness. He hoped they could figure out some time alone together for more than the brief moments they'd been able to carve out so far. As much as Harry agreed they needed to keep their fledgling relationship a secret, he was beginning to realize the negatives of that scheme. He grabbed his wand and cleaned up before rolling over, thinking about what would be the first thing he wanted to do when he finally got Ginny alone.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny knew her own body well enough that it usually didn't take her long to climax, and thinking about Harry only made her reach the peak more quickly. Her orgasm was satisfying enough, if rather lonely, and when her breathing returned to normal Ginny had the perverse urge to send Harry another note, telling him what she'd just done. She could picture the look on his face as he read, and she realized she could picture how the rest of his body would react too.

She'd gone so far as to sit up and look for another piece of parchment before stopping herself. It was quite late now, and she had no idea if Harry was sharing a hotel room with a teammate. Her first note could be explained away – he'd started it, after all – but a second might raise questions. Better to let it remain a fun idea, and nothing more. Maybe she'd tell him in person on Thursday, what she'd been doing to pass the time while they were apart. He'd like that, she knew.

And Ginny liked thinking about it - the image of Harry, sitting her on her bed and listening to Ginny confess how often she'd touched herself during their days apart, was arousing. She knew witches were able to have multiple orgasms sometimes, but she'd never had the opportunity to try it for herself; it was something to do with a partner, really.

_Well, now I have a partner. Only problem is, he isn't here._

That was excuse enough for Ginny. It took her longer to get there the second time, but since she was imagining it was Harry's hand and not hers between her legs, she didn't mind one bit. Her limbs felt like jelly when she was done, and with one final thought about how much better it would be when Harry was there in person, Ginny rolled over and fell heavily asleep.

HPHPHPHP

Ron didn't say much to Ginny Monday morning, just handed her a coffee before turning on the spot to leave for work. She wasn't surprised; they'd both stayed up much too late listening to the end of the Arrows – Wimbourne match on the wireless. The game hadn't ended until after 2 am – fortunately with the announcement that Harry had caught the Snitch to lead the Arrows to victory by 40 points. Hermione had curled up on the sofa hours earlier and Ron had just left her there under a blanket while Ginny walked tiredly back to her flat. Normally she'd listen to the post-game press conference, but as much as she wanted to hear Harry's voice, she knew she'd regret it in the morning if she didn't get at least a couple of hours of sleep.

So it was with tired, but pleasant surprise that she had unlocked her door to find Harry's stag waiting patiently for her. It bowed its head at her presence and Ginny closed her eyes as Harry's voice washed over her.

_I hope I'm not waking you – I charmed my Patronus to appear only if you were alone. Did you hear the entire match? We won! You may know that already, I guess. Umm . . . I'm about to go to the press conference and I know you have work tomorrow, but I just wanted to say . . . hi. And umm, I miss you. Don't send a response; I'm not sure when I'll be alone again. Just know that I'm thinking of you. Not during the press conference, of course, but, umm . . . after. Yeah. Umm, sleep well._

The Patronus faded away. Still smiling, Ginny pulled on her pajamas and climbed into bed. She was tingling now, and gave more than a long thought about staying awake another few minutes after all. But then she yawned and decided – reluctantly – that she needed to be smart about this. She wasn't a fifteen year old boy after all. As her thoughts drifted lazily, she heard Harry's voice in her head, telling her that he'd be thinking of her after the press conference. _At least someone's having fun tonight_, she thought sleepily. _Can't wait to tell Harry that I've been touching . . . _

Now Ginny yawned. Despite her self-control the night before, she'd still not gotten enough sleep, and her dreams had been full of images of Harry and her, somehow balanced together on a broom that flew itself while they snogged. She shook her head, trying to focus. Ron was a couple of steps ahead of her and she jogged to catch up.

"Remind me to thank Hermione for the charm that allows me to Apparate without spilling my coffee," she said, taking a sip. She groaned with pleasure. "Did you add cinnamon?"

Ron grinned. "And a little chili powder," he said. "It'll help keep us awake."

Ginny another careful sip. "It's good, I never would have guessed." She drank again. "Maybe you can incorporate you knowledge of coffee into our potions lesson today."

"I forgot, we're doing memory and truth potions, aren't we?" Ron said. Then he frowned. "Do you think they meant it when they said we'd be practicing on each other? What kind of things do you think they'll want us to admit?"

"Probably your favorite sexual position, Ron," said Angelina with a smirk. She'd come up behind them. "But the rest of us will just have to confess our favorite pudding." Ginny grinned at her friend. "That's not something I want to know about my brother," she said. Something occurred to her. "Or you, for that matter."

Angelina grinned back. "My lips are sealed," she said. She turned to Ron. "I think the potions are already brewed and we're supposed to guess which one each is by what it compels us to want to say. But we perform charms to block off private information first. I asked Camilla on Friday."

Ron sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin," he said dramatically.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't think anyone's that excited to see what you and Hermione get up to, Ron."

"Oh, but that's not what we're tested on, is it?" Copernicus joined them. "We won't block all our important thoughts; it's not difficult to prevent telling secrets we don't care about, is it?" He spoke with his characteristic seriousness. "For example, I suspect I'll be questioned about how my Uncle Ptolemy made his fortune."

"Or how his wife squandered it," said Angelina promptly. "You told us all already, when we were supposed to be learning how to recognize potions by sight. She spent all their money on a magical island that didn't actually exist, didn't she?" Everyone laughed.

"It's not nice to make fun of other people's misfortunes," said Copernicus primly.

"Even when you were the one to share news about that misfortune with the class?" asked Ron.

Copernicus looked like he was about to disagree, but then he sighed. "Mum always tells me I need to learn to keep my mouth shut," he said glumly.

Ginny gave him a smile; he may be rather talkative, but the wizard wasn't a bad bloke. "I'm sure we'll all be spilling interesting information soon," she said.

Copernicus brightened. "Or trying to remember it after being made to forget," he said, enthusiasm returning. "That's another potion; a mild memory modifier. Not as strong as _Obliviate,"_ he said quickly. "Or anything stronger than that. We'll be working on potions that can be fought. Things that are meant to eliminate a small event for the short term, like the fact that you forgot your wife's birthday, until you have time to run out and buy her flowers."

"I thought you can break through an Obliviate," said Angelina thoughtfully. They walked into the classroom and looked with interest at the number of bottles and cauldrons arranged on the front table. A large Pensieve sat off to one side as well, silvery mist swirling out of it.

"You can, but it's difficult," said Ron. "Better to have it removed on purpose by the caster, if the hidden information is needed later. How difficult it is to remove depends on the skill of the wizard who cast it and the skill of the wizard or witch it was cast on." At Ginny's curious look, he shrugged. "Hermione's good at them," he said quietly. "She . . . she had to be."

Ginny remembered when Ron had told her what Hermione had done to keep her parents safe during the long year they were hunting Horcruxes with Harry. Every so often these nuggets of information cropped up, making her realize that she'd probably never completely understand what her three friends had been through; she couldn't even imagine it. Then again, Harry had said something similar to her once, about what it must have been like, living, fighting and trying to survive at Hogwarts under the Carrows. They'd laughed about the fact that each of them thought the other had had it harder, although Ginny was still convinced Harry had just been trying to be nice. The more she learned about what the trio had gone through, the more she was certain that her experience at Hogwarts had been a cakewalk.

But thinking about Harry, even in connection with the knowledge of what he'd gone through, made Ginny feel suddenly warm. They talked about that year during one of their first long talks, after they started becoming friends. Ginny hadn't even known how Harry felt about her then, and even so, her memories of that night made her think they maybe she _had _ known, on some unconscious level. He'd given her his full attention while he listened to her talk, and had shared things about himself that Ginny had known without him saying so that he didn't tell many others. There had been no going back for the two of them, even that early, Ginny realized. And it was rather amazing that she hadn't seen it sooner. The two of them could have been . . .

"Ginny? Ginny!" Ron was snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Are you going to take a seat?"

Ginny pulled herself out of her musings to see that everyone else was waiting for her. Thankful that she could attribute her flush to that embarrassment and not to the place her mind (and body) had started to wander, she sat down quickly, as Kane, Robards, and Camilla Stalk entered the room with a familiar looking woman Ginny couldn't quite place. She wasn't wearing Aurors' robes, and the ones she was wearing had been the height of style three or four years earlier. Now they just looked a rather tired. Ginny was no stranger to secondhand clothing, and she'd have bet almost anything they had belonged to someone else first. But before Ginny could think more of it, Camilla raised her hands for quiet.

"We're going to divide into groups to sample the different potions," she said without preamble. "You've been learning for the past week what each potion should look like, smell like, and taste like, as well as its intended effects. Now is your chance to put that knowledge to practice." She held up a sheaf of parchments. "The questions you are to ask each other for each potion will be sitting in the room with it. We will review your experiences with the Pensieve later. It's been charmed to keep each of your memories separate once placed inside."

"But before we get started, I wanted to introduce the person who brewed all the potions." Robards gestured to the woman in the secondhand robes. She stepped forward and waved to everyone. "This is Sascha. She's been doing some work for the Aurors while we try to rebuild our expert ranks. Unfortunately, our previous potioneer was killed during the War."

The woman – Sascha – waved at everyone again. "I think I got them all right," she said with a light laugh. "In any event, we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

Ginny wanted to turn to Ron; she wondered if he recognized the woman. But everyone was already up and moving around as Camilla divided them into groups. The chatter that broke out among the trainees was both excited and nervous. Rumor had it that almost every previous training class had lost at least one trainee because of revelations resulting from this activity.

Harry had been a class of one, sort of, Ginny mused. Did his memories and truths have something to do with the reasons he'd left the Aurors? She doubted it, although the topic of his leaving was still not something they'd discussed in depth.

And he'd not been a trainee, not really, she amended. That first year after the war, all rules had been pretty much thrown out the window. But Ginny no longer wondered if Harry's reticence on the issue was because he didn't think she had the right to know, and because of that, she was willing to be patient. They had more important things to be doing with their time anyway.

"Ron, Ernie, and . . . hmm . . . how about you, Miss Weasley?" Shephard Kane's voice broke into Ginny's errant daydream about just exactly what she and Harry might do with their time, once they got some alone.

"Sir?" Ginny looked up at the senior Auror. Ron and Ernie were already standing next to him, Ron looking somewhat tense.

"Oh, I just wondered if you'd like to be in my group," said Kane with rather forced casualness. "I'm sure you and your brother would love to try keeping secrets from each other."

Ginny frowned, but before she could say anything, Camilla broke in.

"Do you think that's a good idea, Shep?" she asked, walking over. "Ron and Ginny probably know more about each other than normal; it might taint their experience." She put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. I'll take Ginny into my group and you can have Copernicus or Lee," she said, gesturing back at the other trainees.

Ginny didn't think for a minute Camilla's selecting her was on accident, and not for the first time, she felt a surge of gratitude and respect for the female Auror. Kane frowned.

"I'll have an all-male group then," he said. "Better that you take Ron here. I'll keep Ginny with me."

Ginny suspected that the sex breakdown of each group didn't matter much at all, but she knew better than to say anything. Camilla squeezed her shoulder lightly before releasing it and nodding. "Of course," she said stiffly. "I'll just send Copernicus over then. Or would you rather Lee?"

"Lee, yes, that's right," said Kane quickly. He looked at Ginny. "Lee Jordan is friends with your family, isn't he? With your twin brothers in particular?"

Ginny didn't bother asking how Kane knew that Lee was best friends with Fred and George. She nodded. "He doesn't know too much about me, though," she said. "Not like Ron does."

Kane nodded. "That's fine then." He gestured them to the door as Lee had a quick conversation with Camilla before sliding up next to Ginny.

"Hmm, this should be . . . illuminating, shouldn't it?" he asked, knocking his hip into hers.

Ginny grinned at Lee. "For you . . . or for me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "I seem to remember Fred saying something about you snogging, who was it, Alicia? In the middle of Diagon Alley?"

Lee laughed. "Old news," he said. "These days I'm much more . . ." he stopped. "Well, maybe you'll find out, won't you? But what about you? Your brothers seems to think you're too busy becoming top Auror to ever think about dating." He raised his eyebrows. "Am I about to learn differently?"

"We'll see," said Ginny lightly. She'd already planned to hide her memories of Harry and her during the past month with the blocking charm, and wasn't worried that anyone would be able to get past it.

But once in the practice room down the hall, Kane paired up Lee and Ernie and perfunctorily handed them a list of questions to ask each other, after sampling each potion. "The clear bottle is the antidote to use in between," he explained, before turning to Ginny. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"I thought only one person is supposed to try a potion at a time, and the other two are supposed to question them," said Ginny slowly. "And you're just here to observe."

Kane nodded impatiently. "That's one way of doing it, yes, but this is another. I thought it would be . . . illuminating for you to review your memories of the Chamber of Secrets." He held up a bottle of something reddish and peered at her. "And it would be useful for the Aurors to have those memories too."

Ginny glanced over at Lee and Ernie. She didn't see a red potion on their table, but they were both engrossed with their work. Lee was smirking at something Ernie had just said and was making a big show of writing on the parchment in front of him. Neither of them seemed to think there was anything unusual about Kane working with Ginny.

_Ron would have,_ she thought to herself. _Or Harry. _ She feigned nonchalance. "Why don't you just use the Pensieve? I'm happy to give you my memories that way."

Kane made another impatient gesture. "You were practically unconscious, once you got down to the Chamber," he said. "Maybe you could give us some insight into Tom Riddle's personality when you wrote in the diary, but what we're really interested in how he behaved when he was made nearly human – what traits he showed, his mannerisms, language choices, things like that." Kane peered at her, and a beat too late, Ginny averted her eyes. She heard him make a small sound of understanding.

"It would be even more useful . . . for the Aurors . . . for you and Mr. Potter to try this potion together. Your combined memories would fill in each other's blanks, if you will."

Ginny forced herself to look up, mind carefully blank. She'd not been thinking anything _recent _about Harry, so whatever Kane might have been able to pluck out of her mind wouldn't have told him anything personal, at least. Or maybe, he hadn't seen anything at all, and this was just more of his attempt to exploit their friendship and shared history. She didn't bother feigning confusion.

"I'll ask him, but I doubt he'd be interested," said Ginny bluntly. "And I think it's better if I work with Lee and Ernie now. I've told you all everything there is I know about the Chamber; there isn't anything else."

Kane gave her a calculating look. "I wouldn't be so certain about that, Miss Weasley. Our unconscious minds hold fascinating information, you know." He shook his head. "I've asked him before, and he was more interested than you might think in helping me. But then there were some . . . complications, and we weren't able to finalize our plans before his . . . unfortunate departure from the Aurors." He looked like he was about to say more, but then stopped. "Without Mr. Potter, it may not be worthwhile, even though the information could be of vital importance to the mission of the Aurors."

"And what mission is that?" asked Ginny. "Voldemort's dead."

"Why, to capture Dark Wizards of course," said Kane. "He chuckled. "I thought you knew what you signed up for?"

Ginny did not ask her next question, which was how her old memories of a wizard now dead could be useful in stopping present evil. Kane obviously wanted her to, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. It was something to talk about with Harry first. Ginny didn't break eye contact, and after a moment, Kane nodded her across the room where Lee was now almost doubled over in laughter while Ernie flushed red. "Get to work then," he said gruffly. "I daresay you'll be able to keep your secrets closer to your chest than those two."

HPHPHPHP

"I can't believe I couldn't remember my own name for a bit!" Ron was still blustering over his experience with one of the forgetting potions as they walked to the Apparition point. "What about you? How was it working with Kane? Camilla certainly didn't look happy."

Ginny wasn't surprised her brother had picked up on the tension. She shrugged. "It was more of the same; he wanted me to recruit Harry so he could look at both our memories of the Chamber together. Said the experience would be more "rich and detailed" or something." She frowned. "Did you use a red potion at all? Kane had one that he said was for memory retrieval, but then I didn't use it with Ernie and Lee."

Ron shook his head. "Not red, no," he said. He looked at Ginny. "So you didn't take it?"

Ginny shook her head. "Once I told him I didn't think there was anything else in my memories of the Chamber, he dropped it," she said. "You don't think I should be concerned, do you? I thought Robards was in charge. He's the one Harry always talked about. He said he didn't actually have much interaction with Kane."

Ron frowned. "I don't really know, actually. I do remember him mentioning Kane, and Robards, but he never talked much about what he was doing those times he went off on his own. I should have asked him." Ron looked frustrated with himself.

"It's not your fault," said Ginny reasonably. "Harry's a private person. He tells you and Hermione more than most, but he probably didn't want to burden you with more to think about or something."

Ron looked at her in surprise. "You've come to understand him well," he said. "Took me ages to understand why he kept certain things secret."

Ginny shrugged. "We're older now, I guess," she said nonchalantly. "It was kind of silly of me to be so annoyed with him all the time."

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why . . .Oof!" Someone bumped him from behind. The both turned to see a woman rushing towards the Apparition point. "Sorry, in a rush!" she called over her shoulder.

"That's the potioneer for the Aurors," said Ginny. "Sascha, was it? Did she look familiar to you?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "Do you see Hermione around? She's supposed to meet me here."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "She's right there Ron," she said, pointing at where Hermione was walking towards them. Ron lit up. "Finally!"

"Is that excitement to see me or because we're going to get something to eat?" asked Hermione, giving Ron a quick peck on the cheek.

"Both," he said with a grin.

Hermione laughed. "At least you're honest." She shivered. It's freezing out though, where did you want to go to eat?"

"Mum sent me food," said Ginny quickly. "Enough for all of us, if you wanted to come over." She didn't feel like being alone tonight. Maybe she couldn't talk to Harry, but Ron's comment about Hermione's knowledge of memory charms made her wonder if Hermione knew about potions too. "I think she sent a tart too."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Apple?" he asked eagerly.

Ginny and Hermione both laughed. "Does it matter?" asked Ginny.

HPHPHPHP

As Ginny predicted, Hermione knew quite a bit about memory and truth potions.

"They are related, "she explained over bowls of Mrs. Weasley's stew. "You can be made to forget things, but the opposite is saying everything you know."

"And some can be used to access your . . . unconscious memories?" Ginny asked. She was still unnerved by the idea that things she didn't remember – things she'd experienced in the Chamber – could be pulled out of her head for analysis.

Hermione nodded. "I don't know as much about those," she admitted. "They weren't as necessary for what I needed." She looked thoughtful. "And you said Shepard Kane wanted to use one on you?"

Ginny nodded. "And he said using one with me and Harry together would be particularly illuminating. I don't know exactly what that meant."

"What would be illuminating?"

Ginny whipped her head around to her small fireplace. She hadn't even heard the flames, but Harry's head was balanced in the midst of them. He looked tired and rather sweaty, and when he caught her eye, Ginny couldn't help but lick her lips. She saw Harry take a deep breath, before he shook his head and looked away. "Ron?" Is everything okay?

Ron shrugged. "Ask Ginny. Shepard Kane seems to think you and she together hold the secrets to unlocking the way to defeat dark magic or something." He gestured to the table. "Do you want a piece of my mum's tart? She sent treacle. I don't think she knew you'd be on the road."

"She sent it to me, Ron," said Ginny patiently. Needling her brother was distraction enough to get her breathing under control again. She looked at Harry. "Kane told me he'd asked you once before, to use the potion that unlocks unconscious memories. He thought that if you and I used it together, he could figure out something or other related to Voldemort that's important to the Aurors now, to help them find and eliminate Dark Magic, or something like that. He didn't tell me exactly what he thought we could find out if we . . . worked together. But he thought it was important that we did. Work together. And share our experiences and memories." Ginny broke off, fearing that she was about to give something away.

But Harry didn't seem to pick up on her concern. He looked perplexed.

"I already told Robards everything I remembered about the Chamber, and about the times Voldemort was in my head, starting Fifth Year," he said. "I didn't really talk to Kane about it though. Robards saved copies of my memories for the Pensieve, and yeah, I took a potion at one point too." He shrugged. "It was the least I could do to help. I already knew I was planning to leave, but . . . these memories didn't seem related." He ran his hand through his hair and the hearth was showered with sparks.

Ron waved them away. "Related to the reason you left?"

"Yeah . . . that," Harry said. He sounded distracted and Ginny suddenly realized he was watching her and not paying much attention to Ron or Hermione. She jumped up. "Did you want some treacle tart, then? We have plenty." She waved the tin in front of Harry's face, trying to block him from the rest of the room.

It did the trick; Harry shuddered a tiny bit and gave her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I'll take some with me," he said. "We just had a long practice and I needed a shower and bed more than a meal with the team."

"Why did you Floo call here then?" Hermione leaned forward so she could peer around Ginny to see Harry's face.

Harry froze. Ginny was sure that if not for the dancing green flames surrounding him, his cheeks would be turning red. "I umm . . . that is . . . we're at a Muggle hotel, and the umm, showers aren't very good. I thought I'd come through and see if I could shower here, since there would be less chance of me interrupting something that if I Floo'd to my own flat." He looked at Hermione. "I umm, didn't think I'd find you all here."

Ginny felt a swoop in her stomach. _He'd planned a way to get them into a shower after all. _ A second later, the feeling went away. It didn't matter, since he – they – obviously weren't going to get the chance to do it. Indeed, Ron waved the hand that wasn't currently holding a piece of tart. "Shower's all yours, mate. We're going to finish up eating here. You can just Floo over there instead."

Harry looked trapped, and even without knowing much Legilimency, Ginny could see into his mind and the image of the two of them in her shower. _Damn._

He looked behind him for a second. "Huh? Oh yeah, okay," he said to someone they couldn't see. Ginny would have bet anything no one was there.

Then Harry was back. "Actually, I have to go," he said. "I guess I'll umm, shower here after all. He gave Ginny a quick look. "I guess I'll see you all at the pub in Bristol on Thursday? Hopefully the game won't go on too long."

"Just make sure you find the Snitch quickly," said Ginny lightly. She cut a piece of the treacle tart and wrapped it in a napkin before handing it through the flames. Something was niggling at the back of her mind, about something Harry had said, or that she meant to ask him, but then her hand brushed his as he took the parcel and her question flew right out of her head. She shivered despite the warmth coming from the Floo. Maybe it would come to her when her head was clearer.

"Thank your mum for the tart," Harry said. Again he spoke to all three of them, but only looked at Ginny.

"I'm sure she'll have one waiting for you alone when you're back," said Ron. "You won't have to come round to Ginny's for food and showers."

"That . . . that's good," said Harry. He turned away again. "I really have to go."

And then Ginny was stuck watching her brother and his girlfriend feeding each other bits of dessert on her sofa. She sighed.

"I'm taking a shower," she said, feeling grumpy. "Clean up the crumbs and let yourself out when you're done here." She didn't wait for an answer, just turned on her heel and marched to her loo. She may not be able to shower with Harry, but she damn well could think about it while she showered by herself.


	21. Apart and Together

A/N: This chapter some bits that are plot and some bits that are . . . not. The final scene has been a long time coming and is dedicated to Deadwoodpecker, for whom I promised some SPF months ago, in exchange for her writing a particular scene in The Peverell Dilemma What is SPF, you ask? Well, the S is for "Semi" and the P is for "Public". I'll let you figure out the rest. Thanks to all the cheerleaders in the Ginny Lovers discord server too.

Tuesday morning the trainees learned there was to be more fieldwork that day. Ginny didn't even bother to act surprised when she was assigned to go out with Robards alone. More interesting was the silent conversation that seemed to be occurring between the head Auror and Camilla. It was subtle, but Ginny had a lot of experience recognizing when two people were communicating with looks and gestures. Fred and George had practically perfected the talent, and everyone in Ginny's family knew to be on especially careful watch whenever the twins grew silent and simply looked at each other. The quirk of a single eyebrow could speak volumes.

This time, Ginny couldn't tell what Robards and Camilla were communicating, but by the number of times Camilla's eyes flicked across the room to Shephard Kane, she got the impression that he might have been on the outs with the other two.

_But possibly doesn't even realize it._ Indeed, Kane was seemingly engrossed in conversation with Copernicus and didn't glance at Camilla, Robards – or Ginny – even once.

Ginny rather wished she'd been paired with the female Auror. Somehow, she didn't get the impression that Camilla cared nearly as much about what might possibly be gleaned from Ginny's experience in the Chamber. And she'd never once mentioned Harry.

"What do you think that was all about?" Ron was suddenly at Ginny's ear. He nodded subtly across the room.

Ginny leaned in and pretended to refill Ron's coffee. "You noticed?" Ginny wasn't surprised. He'd grown up with Fred and George too, after all.

Ron shrugged. "I'm going out with Camilla and Lee and Angelina. I'll let you know if she says anything. Although she probably won't." He brightened. "We're going to question people in Knockturn Alley. I love it there."

"That's because we were never allowed when we were kids." Ginny frowned. "I wish just once I could go out with some of the other trainees."

Ron gave her a sympathetic grimace. "Hopefully they'll get bored soon enough and realize you're more useful as an ordinary Auror, as opposed to someone who once had a written conversation with Tom Riddle when she was eleven."

Ginny chuckled. "Thanks Ron. And how do you describe Harry's experience?"

Ron thought a moment. "An unnaturally close, _mindful_ relationship?"

Ginny laughed. "You make it sound like they dated, but didn't want anyone to know."

Ron shuddered. "Could you imagine dating him, or even trying to figure out his type? Voldemort I mean, not Harry."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I know what you meant."

Ron continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Although, trying to figure out Harry's type is almost as difficult. Hermione's made it one of her projects. You know, to find him someone." He grinned. "I told her that whoever she is, I get first approval rights. Otherwise, Hermione's likely to find some perfectly nice but overly intelligent witch from someplace like the Department of Mysteries who knows nothing about Quiditch and who'll bore us all to death on double dates talking about her work."

Ginny stifled a snort. "You mean like when Hermione tried to get us all to understand the legislation she's crafting to regulate the standards for magical home-schooling?"

Ron shrugged good-naturedly. "That's different. It's kind of sexy when she does it."

"Not for the rest of us," muttered Ginny.

"Well anyway, as Harry's best mate, I think I should have a say in who he dates." He gave Ginny a thoughtful look. "Although you've gotten to know him better lately, haven't you?"

Ginny's stomach swooped. "Umm, I guess so?" She cringed at the way her voice went up at the end.

Ron didn't notice. He nodded. "Yeah. So maybe you can figure out someone to set him up with." He looked around the training room. "None of them, I don't think. But what about . . . one of the Harpies? That new one's kind of cute."

"She's in a relationship," said Ginny quickly. "I read it in Witch Weekly. Anyway, I think Harry's the type who need to . . . figure this out himself."

"He's doing a poor job of it so far," said Ron bluntly. "Bloke needs some action."

Ginny bit her lip, and for the first time, was relieved when Robards appeared at her elbow. "Ready to go, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny nodded and followed him out of the room, but was surprised when, instead of taking a lift to the Atrium so they could either Apparate or Floo out of the Ministry, Robards pressed the button for the Fifth level.

"Department of International Magic Cooperation, sir?" Ginny asked.

Robards was reading a memo that had flown into the lift after them. He nodded distractedly. "Going to talk to Hermione Granger," he said. He crumpled the memo and looked down at Ginny. "You know her?"

"Very well," said Ginny. "She's dating my brother Ron."

"That's right," said Robards. Another memo fluttered around his head and he grabbed it but didn't open it. "She's also doing some very interesting research on international education standards that I'd like to talk to her about."

Ginny stared at her boss. "The legislation on home schooling?"

Robards nodded approvingly. "You're already familiar with it, then?"

Ginny nodded back and tried not to groan. She knew Hermione's work on developing international standards for wizard parents to follow when they taught their children at home was important. And she was delighted that her friend loved her work so much. But unlike her brother Ron, Ginny didn't find it even remotely sexy to listen to Hermione prattle on about the difficulties of getting some parents to understand the importance of learning about defense against the dark arts, and not those arts themselves. There'd been an Arrows game on the wireless that last time Hermione had started discussing her work, and Ginny had had to sit on her hands to keep herself from turning it loud enough to drown out Hermione's voice. After half an hour she'd finally faked a headache and left for her own flat where she could listen in peace.

"Well then, that will save some time explaining," said Robards. He walked into the section of offices and cubicles dedicated to international legal communication and cooperation. Hermione waved at them from a table across the room. She and two co-workers were bent over what looked like an enormous map of Europe with various glowing spots on it. Ginny vaguely remembered seeing something similar in Shepard Kane's office, and she frowned, trying to remember if Hermione'd ever mentioned working with him.

She'd have to ask later, because Robards was already deep in conversation with Hermione. ". . . looks much better than last time. So you've gotten some of the provincial areas to agree?"

Hermione nodded. "The legislation should pass with no trouble, and other than here, and here" – she pointed to two particularly bright spots on the map – "I think we can count on authorities to ensure compliance."

"Excuse me, but compliance with what, exactly?" asked Ginny.

Robards waved at the map. "Compliance with the legislation on homeschooling that Miss Granger and her team have been working tirelessly on," he said. "I've long been concerned that young wizards and witches who aren't taught a varied and thoughtful magical curriculum are more at risk for turning to the Dark Arts later in life. They may not even realize until it's too late that they are being seduced by dark magic. And in some cases, the magic they have learned at home, even if not dark itself, is not robust enough to give them the skills to fight it." The Auror grimaced. "Regulation of home school curriculum has been so lax that even young wizards whose parents have the best of intentions aren't being taught proper magic. And young wizards who don't know magic grow up to be adult wizards who don't know magic. Mistakes can turn evil, even when not intended."

Ginny had never considered it that way. "I guess I thought that most parents who homeschooled did so for the express purpose of teaching their children Dark Magic without Ministry oversight."

Robards nodded. "There are some of those, yes. But uncovering home education of truly Dark Magic is actually the easiest to find and track. It leaves certain signatures that are easy to trace. And the families most likely to try to train their children in the Dark Arts are well known to us already." He leaned over the map. "Some of the smaller areas that light up are those families. I'm sure it's not a surprise to see how many of them are located in the wealthier areas."

Ginny nodded, recognizing the small patch of light around the village she knew was closest to Malfoy Manor. "But when I helped at that training camp," she began, looking for the spot on the map and pointing with her wand when she found it. "There. That wasn't a wealthy area at all. Why did you want me to questions those children who didn't like the Arrows?"

Robards looked slightly embarrassed. "Ahh yes, well, some of that _might_ have been contrived as part of the training exercise."

Ginny was oddly relieved to learn that she wasn't exempt from the "make work" the other trainees were doing. But she wanted to take advantage of Robards' apparent willingness to talk. "And Harry? Was he doing contrived work too?"

Now the Auror smiled. "No. Harry's a big reason that this map is not lit up a lot more than it used to be. He's very good at tracking down Dark Magic – purposeful and accidental."

This all sounded rather more legitimate than Ginny's previous interactions with Robards. She pretended to analyze the map while she asked her next question. "And your interest in me and Harry . . . together?" She sincerely hoped that no one – especially Hermione – could hear the catch in her voice.

Robards chuckled. "While I do think there is information to be gleaned from your combined experience with Mr. Potter, I'll admit that I may have been a little . . . heavy handed in my requests at times." He frowned. "There hasn't always been agreement about . . ." he stopped suddenly. "I mean, I won't be giving up on talking to you and Mr. Potter in the same room, Miss Weasley, but I can assure you, your connection to him is _not _why you're here." He shook his head to himself and then looked Ginny in the eye. "I meant it when I told you that you have excellent instincts for an Auror. And I think you'll be helpful – on your own – talking to families about the importance of either sending their children to wizarding school or adhering to the International curriculum standards for home schooled wizards and witches."

Ginny had more than a little suspicion about where some of the disagreement between the Aurors might lie, but she knew to keep her mouth shut. Still, it was gratifying to realize how seriously Gawain Robards took his work. The way he explained it made the need for international standards of curriculum sound much more interesting than Hermione had. Ginny would be actually meeting with families to talk about what they knew about teaching magic, doing some demonstrations, and keeping an eye out for common hazards that could lead to the performance of unintentional Dark Magic at home. It was real work, and a good way to get experience fighting Dark Magic. Ginny was so pleased about the turn of events that she nearly blurted out that maybe she'd talk to Harry, after all. But at the last minute, she managed to bite back her offer. It wasn't fair to Harry in any event, and she had to remind herself that no one else knew about the two of them. She wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, and she knew he did too. If Harry showed up at Auror headquarters to be interviewed alongside her, Ginny had no doubt one of them (or both) would give something away. Instead she nodded.

"I'm looking forward to working on this," she said to Robards.

HPHPHP

And then, finally, blessedly, it was Thursday. Ginny had been right that the work was interesting. She'd known, of course, that it was easy for a simple spell or charm to go wrong when the wandwork or incantation wasn't exact – hell, she couldn't remember a single class at Hogwarts when someone didn't blow something up – but she'd never realized how protected the students had been, doing magic in the castle. There had been wards and protective spells cast by the professors, and oversight by people who really knew what they were teaching. In the homeschool world, it was completely different. Ginny had spent two days learning the most common mistakes untrained wizards made with their spellwork, and preparing a demonstration she could show first to her classmates and eventually, to families around Britain. They'd assigned Angelina to work along with her, and the addition of a partner had made everything even more enjoyable. Angelina was not one to hold back when it came to her magic, or her willingness to dish about George, and Ginny found herself laughing more at work than she'd remembered doing in a long time. She felt like a regular trainee, and it was with more than a few nerves that she knocked on a door to a small house in the village of Tinworth for her first interview of a family that had chosen to teach their children at home.

What she hadn't quite anticipated was that Hermione would want a detailed recap of Ginny's day, every evening. She asked questions and gave insights and made suggestions that Ginny had to admit were good, and so she forced herself to pay attention and participate in what ended up being several extra hours of work each night. Ginny couldn't very well say that she needed to go back to her own flat (or on Wednesday, ask Hermione and Ron to leave her flat) so that she could send an owl to Harry or wait for a Patronus from Harry, or . . . touch herself to thoughts of Harry. Indeed, by the time she was finally alone each night, Ginny had been too tired, her thoughts too jumbled, to even find relief that way.

But now it was Thursday, and, listening to the Arrows game on the wireless, Ginny couldn't help but think that Harry was as eager as she was to get to the pub. She didn't know if it was her imagination, but the announcer seemed to mention Harry's activities more than usual, as if he was solely responsible for most of the action in the game. She'd rushed home from work to shower, and now was sitting in Ron and Harry's flat dressed to go out in robes that were slightly more fitted – and shorter – than her what she wore on a normal day off work. She hoped it didn't look too obvious, but they _were_ planning to go to a pub, after all. Ginny crossed her legs impatiently, listening to the announcer describe a score by Adam Ramsey. In her mind, she could see Harry, flying carefully above the melee of the game, totally focused on the hint of gold that wove in and out of the clouds. In and out, Harry would weave too, in and out, around his team. In and out . . . stopping only when he found something important, something he could focus all his attention on. In . . . and out. And then . . .

"He's really upped his game, hasn't he?" Ron's voice was like a wet blanket, thrown over Ginny's thoughts. She forced herself back. "Ha-Harry?"

Ron shook his head. "Ramsey. That's his third goal in the last eight minutes." He cocked his head and looked at Ginny. "Aren't you paying attention?"

Ginny opened her mouth to answer when the noise from the wireless suddenly surged.

"Aaaaand . . . . Potter gets the Snitch! Arrows win!"

Ginny let out a breath she didn't even realized she'd been holding. Ron let out a satisfied yell and pumped his fist into the air, then turned to Hermione, who'd been mostly ignoring the game while she poured over a pile of parchments.

"How much more time do you need before we can leave for the pub?"

Ginny froze, halfway to her feet. She looked back and forth between her brother and his girlfriend. "Don't you think we should leave now?" she asked, just as Hermione shrugged and said "maybe another half-hour?"

Ron ran his hand over Hermione's shoulder. "It's going to take the team a while to get there," he said to Ginny. "You know, showers, press conference, all that. We can go in an hour."

Ginny forced her voice to stay casual. "It's going to get pretty crowded, don't you think? At the pub I mean. I just thought that . . . maybe we'd want to get there early? In case it gets crowded. Or if the umm, Arrows get their earlier than expected."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "But an hour early?" He looked at his girlfriend. "And Hermione still has work to do anyway."

Hermione shrugged and rolled up the parchment she was reading. "I don't mind," she said. "I've done enough." Ginny didn't miss the look she gave Ron. "Maybe Ginny wants to check out the clientele at the pub before it gets too crowded," she said pointedly.

Ginny nodded quickly. "Angelina heard there'd be a lot of single blokes at the pub," she said. "It should be fun."

Ron gave her an odd look. "I thought you said you wanted to get there early in case the Arrows did?"

_Damn. _"Well yeah, I did," said Ginny. She tried going on the offense. "And that's why I want to get there early – in case there's anyone interesting there, before I get distracted talking to Harry and the others. Because you know if they see me talking to a bloke, they'll just take the mickey."

"So if you find someone interesting to talk to, you're just going to abandon him when the Arrows show up?" Hermione spoke practically and Ginny resisted the urge to groan.

"I just want to go out, okay?" she said, a bit testily. "I've been working hard this week learning all the ways magic can go Dark, and then coming home and talking about it more with the two of you, and yeah, I want to go to a pub and have a drink and talk Quidditch. And if there happens to be a bloke to flirt with for a couple of minutes, all the better. I don't need a lecture about it and I don't need to wait around here for another hour." She grabbed her cloak. "So I'm going to the pub. You can come with me now or come in an hour and, I don't know, have sex in the meantime. I don't care. But given that I'm not currently having sex, I think I'll not wait around." She stomped towards the door.

"Chill out, Ginny, we'll come with you, okay?" Ron spoke in a placating voice Ginny wasn't used to hearing from him. She stopped and turned around, feeling a bit silly. If she wasn't careful, they'd be able to guess the real reason she was eager to get to the pub. She needed to get herself under control – brain and body. Already she could feel heat pooling between her legs just from the thought of finally getting to be alone with Harry. _How long were they going to have to stay at the pub?_ She shook away the thought and gave Ron a sheepish smile.

"Thanks," she said. "It's just been a really long week."

Not surprisingly, the pub was still fairly empty when they arrived, and Ginny was grateful than neither Ron nor Hermione mentioned it. The older woman who served them drinks made it a point to tell them at least three times that she was going off her shift soon, so they'd best close our their tab with her before reopening one with her replacement.

"Someone's eager not to lose their gratuity, don't you think?" asked Ginny, throwing down a few Sickles on the table while Hermione went to the bar to pay their bill. "Probably a good idea not to be too pissed before the Arrows get here anyway."

"Why?" asked Ron. He took the new drink Hermione brought him. "They'll probably do a shot themselves to celebrate their win before they get here. Maybe two." He grinned. "After that big win against Tutshill last month, they were all completely wasted before they even got to the pub. Harry passed out on the sofa in our flat; couldn't even make it to his bed.

Ginny frowned. "I don't remember that."

Ron shrugged. "It was that night you'd gone to the Burrow to help mum with something – cleaning out your closet maybe?" He chuckled. "I think Harry remembered the last time you'd minded him whilst he was drunk; he asked for you. Actually, he slurred something like, 'ash Ginny t' come here, but doan tell 'er I said so."

Ginny swallowed, trying to remember exactly when the Tutshill game had been. _Before or after? _After his confession, but before she knew how she felt? After she'd realized but before she told him? She was pretty sure it couldn't be later than that; she wouldn't have gone to the Burrow if there was a chance she could see him instead, could see him and . . . "Did he say anything else?" she asked. The heat she'd already noticed got stronger.

Ron took a long pull of his drink. "He was pretty out of it. When I told him you were at the Burrow, he said 'damn' and then kind of passed out."

That didn't tell Ginny anything about the timing, but at least Harry hadn't given anything away. A thought came to her. "Was that when you and Hermione were discussing paint colors for her flat?" Ginny had Floo'ed home from her night at the Burrow and gone straight to Ron and Harry's flat with the basket of food her mother had given her. Ron and Hermione had been discussing – rather loudly – which shade of blue might look best in Hermione's flat, and the air was shimmering with splotches of different hues they each kept shooting out of wands. Harry had been uncharacteristically quiet, which Ginny attributed to his discomfort at having told her how he felt. _Aha!_ Soon after he'd grumpily asked Ron and Hermione why they weren't having this conversation in Hermione's flat, where the walls at issue were located. Ginny hadn't understood the meaning of Ron's cheery "a bit too loud for you?" question nor Harry's response that Ron just bugger off. He'd retreated to his bedroom soon afterwards with only a quick _sorry_ in Ginny's direction. Now she realized, he'd probably been as much hungover as uncomfortable; maybe even more so. She felt an irrational disappointment that she hadn't been able to take care of Harry while he had been drunk – it obviously hadn't made any difference between them – but nonetheless, Ginny felt an odd sense of loss that she hadn't been there. She looked around for a server and finally flagged down a witch who was young enough to have been the older one's daughter.

"A glass of elf-made wine, please," said Ginny. It seemed like a safer choice than anything with Firewhiskey.

"Our special tonight is called 'Mercury's Flare,' it's particularly delicious," said the server. She waved her wand across her tray and a short glass full of fiery liquid appeared. The drink danced and tumbled inside without ever spilling out. "Chase away some of those inhibitions?" she asked. "Before your friends get here?"

"How did you know I'm meeting friends?" asked Ginny. The swirling liquid reminded her of a Pensieve right after memories had been added. It made her think of Harry's Pensieve, and the vials of memories she knew he kept in his room. _Would he want her to see them, now? Were there any of her?_

"Not hard to guess, dearie, that you didn't plan to come out just to be with the two of them." The server inclined her head across the table, where Ron and Hermione were rather more engrossed in each other than normal. Ron had one of the specials in front of him, Ginny noticed.

"Lowers inhibitions all right," she muttered. "I'll just stick with the wine."

The server shrugged with an _it's your loss_ sort of expression and left. "Wouldn't you two rather be in a room alone somewhere?" asked Ginny.

Ron looked up from where his mouth met Hermione's neck. "Hell yeah, I would," he said. "I really love her." He looked at Hermione. "Did you know that? Did you know I love you?"

Hermione caught Ginny's eye and mouthed _sorry_ before turning back to Ron. "Yes, I know that," she said with an amused smile. She pushed the rest of his drink out of his reach. "But maybe you've had enough for now. You don't want to be so drunk later that you aren't able to . . ." she leaned in and began whispering in Ron's ear. Ron's eyes lit up and he twisted in his seat to face his girlfriend. "Can we get started now?" he asked.

Ginny jumped up. "I'm just going to wait for the team . . . out back," she said. She turned away from the display and headed towards the door that led to the alley behind the pub and the private Apparition point. On the way, she stopped at the bar for her wine, thinking that maybe the server wasn't so far off that Ginny needed something to relax.

The warming charms in the alley eliminated a lot of the winter chill, and Ginny stood comfortably under one of the glowing yellow orbs, sipping wine and letting her thoughts wander to what she was going to be doing later that night. She shivered, but not because of any residual cold. _How long would they have to stay at the pub?_ Without consciously thinking about it, Ginny brushed her hand across her breast, feeling the nipple harden under her shirt. _Damn, she just wanted Harry to touch her. _The thought itself made her chuckle at its incongruity. Could it really have been just months ago when the words she most associated with Harry Potter was something along the lines of _irritating git? _She'd wasted so much time with petty jealousy and wrong assumptions, when she could have been getting to know him for real.

She took a sip of wine, considering. Would their relationship have begun sooner? Would she have realized she fancied him without him having to say so first? Ginny felt fairly confident that the answer to both questions was yes. It wasn't even her current feelings that made her so sure. Their lives had become intertwined when she was eleven, and had she – okay, _both of them _– had understood better what that meant, Ginny believed that the trajectory of their friendship would have been remarkably different. Those months her third year when Ron had been such a git about the Tri-wizard tournament, Ginny could have spent saving Harry from too much Hermione and berating her brother about his actions. Maybe Harry would have asked her to the Yule Ball – as friends, of course – but maybe something would have sparked between them even then. And her fourth year, all those hours spent with the DA, she might have recognized how brilliant he was at defense, and teaching, and rallying them all against Umbridge, instead of spending all that time trying to impress Michael Corner. She might have been the one to recognize what Voldemort was doing to him – putting thoughts into his head. She might have made the connection with what had happened to her, and the Ministry wouldn't have happened. Or fifth year, when she'd joined the Quidditch team, why hadn't she realized how much Harry cared about them all, about her? He'd been balancing so much that year, and all she'd been able to do was berate him about how many practices he set. And they could have been snogging or something instead, and she could have listened to his concerns about Malfoy and comforted him when Dumbledore was killed.

A raucous couple appeared at the Appariation point – two wizards who seemed oblivious to anything apart from getting inside the other's robes as quickly as possible. Ginny stepped quickly aside to let them to their ministrations of each other, inadvertently stepping out of the protection of the warming charms in the process. The sudden cold cleared her head and she put down her wine on a window ledge and wrapped her arms around herself, grinning ruefully. Look at her, inventing any way possible to rearrange her and Harry's entire history. Hell, she wasn't merely trying to get them together earlier, she was revising his entire years-long fight against Voldemort! Next she probably would have sent herself along on the Horcrux hunt too. She shook her head to herself and looked across the alleyway. One of the wizards noticed her and, smiling sheepishly, straightened his partner's shirt before tugging him through the door and into the pub.

But the interruption made her next thoughts more rational. To be fair, maybe she and Harry would have just become good friends, the way he felt about Hermione. Maybe. But Ginny didn't think so. For a wild moment, she thought about what Kane had told her, that there were potions that could help read someone's unconscious memories. As distasteful as the idea was to Ginny of someone looking at her hidden memories of the Chamber, she wondered what her subconscious might have been thinking about Harry, all those years. Had she really been as annoyed by him as she'd always assumed, or did the annoyance merely mask attraction? Not that she'd ever try to find out, of course; she still didn't trust the idea of the potion Kane described. But thinking about Harry was another matter.

A series of loud pops broke her out of her reverie. Ron had been right; by the inartful way the Arrows arrived at the pub, it was clear they'd enjoyed a drink – or two – at the stadium first. They'd showered too, and Ginny's senses were suddenly assaulted with a mix of colognes and after-shave. She looked around, trying to sense the clean, woodsy smell of the shampoo her mum brewed for everyone except Ginny.

"Oho! Look who's here!" Dam sounded like he'd had at least three shots of whiskey before Apparating. He stumbled into Ginny and she instinctively put her hands on his chest. He threw an arm around her shoulders. "Are you the welcoming committee?"

Through the crowd of players, Ginny finally caught sight of Harry. He was standing a little way towards the back of the alley, looking freshly showered and more alert than most of his teammates. Their eyes met, and Ginny saw him swallow hard.

"It's hot in the pub," said Ginny in the direction of Dam's chest. She was still watching Harry. "I needed some air." Now that he was here in front of her, after nearly a week apart, Ginny was more aware than ever of her need to just be near him. Yes, the need was part physical, but even more was something else. It was taking almost all her effort to stay there next to Dam and she tried to come up with a pretense to walk further down the alley. She knew they'd only have a moment; once they all got inside the pub, they both knew they'd have roles to play. She might talk to him, even sit close enough to touch, but that was it.

Next to her, Dam was rounding up the team.

"Hot maybe, but that's where the drinks are! What's your poison tonight, Weasley?" Not surprisingly, Dam was in a celebratory mood.

Ginny remembered. "My wine," she said, looking down the alley. "I left it . . ."

"Is this it?" Harry finished. He was holding up her half full glass from the window sill she'd put it on.

Ginny walked over to him. "Thank you," she said. She took the glass and shivered when their fingers touched. "I forgot where I'd put it."

"Well I'm glad you remembered," he said quietly. There were small droplets of water on the ends of his hair; he must not have taken much time with drying charms. One dripped onto his shoulder and Ginny had to stop herself from reaching up to brush it away. She was standing too close, probably, for someone who merely needed to retrieve her wine, but she didn't care. Harry hadn't taken his eyes away from hers. Hopefully the rest of the team was too eager to get inside to start drinking to notice.

Indeed, the pub door was already open and Dam was ushering everyone inside. "Coming, Potter?" he said.

Harry turned half away and grinned at the Keeper. "I'll keep Weasley company until she's cooled off enough to join us inside." He waved his wand at her glass and the wine inside doubled. "I'll just share her drink here in the meantime."

"Nice one, you'll have to teach me that spell," said Dam. "Or better yet, just do it for me on all my bottles!" He turned towards the door. "Order me a double of whatever's cheap!" he called inside. "Don't let Weasley get in any trouble, Potter," he said, looking back at them. Harry took a tiny step back. Dam seemed to reconsider. "Actually, Weasley, since you're the Auror, you watch out for Harry instead, okay? Captains orders." With a laugh, he disappeared into the pub.

HPHPHPHPHP

As soon as the door closed, Harry stepped close to Ginny again and she took a step too, and looked up at him. They weren't quite touching, but Harry could feel the thrum of tension in the space between.

"He didn't notice a thing," he said, not caring if Dam had. He looked around the alley. It was quiet for the moment, but the night was just getting started, and more and more people were likely to be arriving soon. He looked back down at Ginny, considering. "We're going to be expected inside soon, aren't we?"

Ginny nodded mutely. She took another step forward, and Harry couldn't help but wrap his arms around her. She leaned her head against his chest and he heard her give a small sigh. "I've been waiting for this all week."

Harry rested his chin on Ginny's hair. "Me too," he said. "And I wish I could just Apparate us both away to somewhere private right now."

She looked up at him, a glint in her eye. "Can't you?"

Before Harry could answer, another pop across the alley broke them apart. Harry backed up against the wall and Ginny looked away and took a big sip of wine. But the group of giggling witches paid them no mind. Harry looked them over carefully and was relieved not to see any he knew. He saw Ginny watching them too, her stance relaxing slightly after she came to the same conclusion.

"Do you think Adam Ramsey's inside? Do you think he'd sign my chest?" One of the witches pulled at her already low-cut top. "I brought a pen with charmed ink – won't come off until I want it too!" Chattering excitedly to each other, they all disappeared inside the pub.

Harry knew he absolutely should suggest that he and Ginny follow the witches. They should walk into the pub a friendly distance from each other and then split up. He'd locate Dam and the rest of the team and Ginny would make her way over eventually, maybe after talking a bit more to Ron and Hermione. They'd each have another drink or two before eventually – finally – making separate excuses to leave. Only then would Harry be able to slake the ache of need that had been sitting with him all week.

Instead, he took the wine out of Ginny's hand and swallowed the rest before banishing the glass back into the pub. In front of him, Ginny hadn't moved. She was breathing a little too fast for it to be natural, and her body leaned towards his, even though her feet were still planted on the ground. Harry looked around the deserted alleyway.

"I'm in no state to make small talk with my team right now," he said. Ginny took a step forward and Harry took her hips in his hands and pulled her the rest of the way, until she was pressed up against him, his back to the brick wall. Half his body was cold and half was warm and vaguely he realized they must be at the edge of the warming charms, but he couldn't care. Ginny rested her head on his chest again and this time, no one interrupted them while her breathing slowed and his heartbeat eased to match hers. Only then did he take her chin and tip her head back to kiss her.

He'd meant it to be a gentle, closed-mouth, promise of a kiss. But Ginny turned slightly and pushed against him and Harry was forced to shuffle a few inches to stay balanced against the wall. His bum found the narrow sill where she'd put her wine and Ginny fit herself into the space between his legs, and Harry groaned against Ginny's mouth as it opened under his.

"Someone . . . might . . . see," he mumbled, moving his lips to her jaw.

"We'll just have to . . . remain . . . somewhat aware," responded Ginny. She was pushing herself against him more insistently and Harry wasn't sure he'd want to stop even if Dam and Ron together had opened the pub door just then.

But they did manage to stop a few seconds later when the telltale pop told them they were about to be interrupted again. Harry almost laughed when Ginny put her hands on her hips and her expression morphed into one of annoyance; he was sure that to the three couples at the other end of the alley it looked as though Harry and Ginny were having a disagreement. If they'd been close enough to see Ginny's swollen lips and dilated eyes (or the lump in Harry's trousers), the jig would have been up. But like the group of witches, the newest arrivals were only focused on getting themselves inside the bar as quickly as possible. No one seemed to care what errant couples might be doing under the warming charms.

The alley suddenly seemed a lot more private. As soon as the pub door closed and Ginny stepped towards him again, Harry slipped a hand inside the front of the dress-like robes Ginny wore. She made a small sound of surprise but didn't pull away, and after a second, reached up to open them further. Harry brushed his hand across Ginny's chest and sucked in his breath. _She wasn't wearing a bra._ He froze, hand still cupping her warm breast. "Did you know. . . ?"

"That I'm not wearing a bra?" Ginny angled herself to give Harry more access and he brushed a thumb across her nipple. "I thought it would make things easier . . . later on," she said breathlessly. Her nipple hardened under Harry's hand. "I didn't think . . . you'd find out . . . this early."

"I'm glad I did," said Harry. He was careful to keep Ginny's robes around her shoulders while he gently worked his fingers on one breast and then the other. He slid a little lower into a sitting position on the windowsill and moved his mouth to her, burying his face in Ginny's chest and breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. She ran her hands through the hair at the back of his neck and held him in place, jerking slightly when he turned his head to use his tongue to tease her. When they heard another soft pop of Apparition, Harry shuffled them both out of the protection of the warming orb to where the alley was darker and they could feel the cold air against their skin. He lifted his head but didn't move his hands away from her chest. Ginny tugged the back of Harry's shirt out from his trousers and ran her hands up his back until the sudden burst of noise and then silence told them that yet another group had entered the pub. They carefully moved back under the warming charm, and Harry pulled Ginny against him and began to kiss her again. He tangled one hand in her hair and warred with whether to pull her closer so that she could add pressure to his arousal or keep enough distance to be able to reach back inside her robes.

"Harry?" Ginny's breasts won, and Harry put both hands on her again, pleased to feel that they hadn't gotten the least bit cold. He bent down, intending to use his mouth again.

"Hmm," he mumbled, already rather distracted.

"I also planned for you to find out later that I'm not wearing any knickers."

That got his attention. Harry froze, both hands still on Ginny's chest. Slowly, he looked up at her. She was staring at him intently, biting her lower lip, and he could feel under his hands when she took a deep breath. "I'm not wearing any knickers," she said again. "Right now."

Harry's eyes automatically fell to Ginny's waist. Her robes were only open to right above her navel, so there was nothing to see, but it didn't really matter. He'd only see that bit of Ginny once, for the brief second that day Ron had gotten stuck in the wards and interrupted them, but he'd thought about it rather a lot since then. He swallowed. "You want me to . . . here?" He looked around. They'd slowly been moving to the darker – and colder – end of the alley, but the Apparition point and back door to the pub were still clearly visible, framed by warming orbs. And anyone not precise enough with their Apparition could land practically on top of them. Ginny caught his face between her hands just as another sound of arrival made them jump apart. Ginny crossed her arms around her to keep her robes closed and Harry bent down to pretend to tie his shoe. A second later, he heard her swear softly.

"Stay down," she hissed. "Fred and George and Angelina and . . . yes! Katie!"

Harry wanted to melt into the cobblestones. He could sense Ginny standing still above him; at least she hadn't seen it necessary to Apparate away or anything, and a moment later, she gave a sigh of relief. "Okay, they're inside," she said.

Harry stood up cautiously. "We should be too," he said. "Someone's going to come looking for us soon." He couldn't help it when his eyes dropped to Ginny's waist again. She was buttoning up her robes and he sighed as her breasts disappeared.

She gave a little shrug. "We will, in a minute." She grabbed his hand and moved it to the hem of her robes, which seemed to Harry to have become shorter. "We'll tell them you were teaching me the wine refilling spell." She looked him in the eye. "I don't need to finish, here, but I want you to touch me. Right now." She used their twined hands to push up the bottom of her robes.

Harry's erection, which had deflated a bit at the arrival of Fred and George in the alley, immediately grew again. He whirled Ginny around so that her back was the brick wall and then angled his body so that anyone Apparating to the back door of the pub wouldn't be able to see her. Briefly, it occurred to him that it was going to look like he was wanking to anyone arriving at the other end of the alley. But then Ginny made a restless sound and grabbed at his hand again and all other thoughts flew out of Harry's head.

He was trying to remember what he'd seen, during the one brief moment in her room, but quickly realized he'd rather watch Ginny's face instead and figure everything else out by touch. It was warm, under her robes, and not just from the heavy material. Harry braced one hand on the wall beside Ginny's head and shook the hand she was maneuvering under her dress free of her grasp.

"I want to do it myself," he said. Ginny's hand immediately retreated and she moved them both to his hips, dipping her thumbs inside the waistband of his trousers and brushing the skin there. He sucked in a breath and Ginny chuckled.

"Sensitive, are we?" she teased.

"Not as sensitive as you're about to be," promised Harry. He moved his hand swiftly upward to cup the space between her legs. She was already wet, he noted with satisfaction, and given their current location, was glad for it. "I don't think I can take the time to . . ." he began.

"I know," Ginny said breathlessly. "Just . . . just touch me however you want. Please."

Hardly believing what he was about to do, Harry slipped a finger into Ginny's folds. She moaned and closed her eyes. "Yes, right there," she said. "Right . . . there."

Harry added a second finger and experimented with pushing them in and out. Ginny clenched her thighs around his hand and moved her hands restlessly out of his trousers and up and down his arms. "Merlin, that feels good," she said. She was making little thrusting movements with her hips and for one second Harry considered forgetting everything else and Apparating them both to away to somewhere private, to somewhere with a bed, so he could do this properly. Instead, he took a guess and moved his thumb around above Ginny's center, pressing down when he thought he'd found the right spot. He was rewarded; she muttered a loud "fuck yes," and grabbed again at his hips, pulling him towards her. He almost lost his balance and was forced to pull his fingers out to catch himself from falling against the brick.

"Sorry," he said. "Sorry. I meant to, I wanted you to . . ."

"It's okay, Harry," said Ginny. She was straightening her robes. "I was the one who almost knocked you over." She grinned. "It was that brilliant."

Harry frowned. "But you didn't finish."

Ginny smirked, "I'm kind of getting used to that." Her face softened. "It's really okay. I didn't want my first orgasm from you to be while we're standing in a cold alley anyway. It was more the excitement of the moment, you know?"

Harry grinned then. "Absolutely." He looked around. "I can't believe I just did that practically in public." He pulled her back into his arms and gave her a kiss. "That was really hot."

Ginny kissed him back. "We'll have to make this sort of thing a habit," she said. She held up a finger. "But after we've spent plenty of time somewhere private. And warm." She shivered. "I think we've more than used up my excuse that I needed some air. Hopefully everyone inside is too pissed to realize how long we've been gone."

Harry stepped away from Ginny and gestured up the alley. "Only one way to find out," he said.


	22. Confessing and Forgetting

A/N: Every so often, I write a chapter that does pretty much everything I want it to. This was one of those times. :) Special thanks to the GInny Lovers Discord for reading bits and pieces and helping me with a very useful discussion about positions. I hope it reads true for you guys.

The pub had gotten considerably louder and more crowded since Ginny had left; it seemed as if many more people had been entering from the front door than had been Apparating to the back. It took Ginny a minute to locate Fred and George and Katie and Angelina sitting at a table near the front. They all seemed to be having a good time, and as Ginny watched, Fred leaned in to say some thing to Katie, and by the way she looked at him and touched his arm in response, Ginny was certain that relationship would soon be back on track.

Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight and Ginny made a mental note to figure out whose flat they had gone to before she and Harry made their plans for later. As affectionately drunk as Ron had been towards his girlfriend, Ginny wouldn't be surprised if they didn't make it as far as Ron's bedroom before getting busy, and she really didn't want to happen upon them in any sort of state of undress later on. Various members of the Arrows were scattered about, chatting up fans; Ginny saw one witch talking enthusiastically to Adam Ramsey and she wondered if the woman had been successful yet in getting the Chaser to sign her chest.

"I uhh, guess we should split up for a while? Can you sit with the twins?" Harry's eyes were darting around the pub. They stopped again on Ginny. "Or maybe no one will think it odd if we both joined my teammates? Or maybe Fred and George?" He sounded hopeful and Ginny bit back a smile.

"We could probably sit with Fred and George, without anyone thinking about it. You know, since you and Katie are both professional Quidditch players." Ginny looked across the pub again and reconsidered. "But the four of them look rather cozy, don't you think?" Indeed, Fred was now nuzzling Katie's neck and George and Angelina were practically snogging.

"Not there," said Harry quickly. He looked around. "I thought Ron and Hermione were coming."

"They were here earlier. By the way my brother was acting, I very much suspect they're naked on a sofa somewhere."

Harry grimaced. "That could make things rather awkward later. I might, uhh, have to bunk with Dam or something."

"Or something," Ginny agreed, shivering. She looked around again. "Where is Dam anyway?" Ginny knew she should probably be separating from Harry, probably sucking it up and going to sit with her brothers while Harry hung out with his teammates, but she couldn't bring herself to move away. The most she could do was force her voice to stay casual as she looked around the bar.

"Look for the biggest crowd and he'll probably be at the center of it," said Harry. "Maybe . . ."

"Are you ready for our special? Half price for the next hour!" The young server appeared out of nowhere, brandishing her tray of dancing red drinks in Ginny's face. "Or for your friend? I knew you were waiting for someone, and looks like you found him."

"I wasn't waiting for him," said Ginny quickly. "He came with his team." She looked at the tray. "I think I'll stick with wine again." If she was going to be sitting with Harry, she needed to keep her wits around her.

"And I'll have an ale," said Harry. He peered at the glasses. "What's in that anyway?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that," laughed the server. She leaned in conspiratorially. "It eases tension, which it looks like the two of you have plenty of!" She waved the tray again. "Maybe just one? Your friend over there seems to be enjoying himself." She nodded her head across the pub. A group of dancers parted and Ginny could see Dam, laughing uproariously at something, a red drink in his hand. Ginny shook her head firmly. "Just wine for me, please. And an ale." The server shrugged. "Pick them up at the bar," she said and turned away. Ginny looked at Harry, who was studiously studying the room as if looking for someone.

"We're probably being paranoid," Ginny said. Harry turned to her and gave her a sheepish smile. "Yeah," he agreed. He looked around before heading to the end of the bar where their drinks waited. "No one seems to be missing us."

"And we're friends," added Ginny. "Why shouldn't we be able to talk to each other, in a pub?"

"Exactly," nodded Harry. "Friends should be able to talk to each other wherever they want, without anyone getting suspicious." He lowered his voice. "Suspicious that one of those friends just fingered the other out in the alley."

A bolt of desire coursed through Ginny, pooling low in her belly. She stared at Harry, rather shocked at his brazenness. She lowered her voice to match his. "Or suspicious that those friends are trying to figure out how long they have to stay here, before they can finish what they started."

Harry started to respond, but a push from behind almost knocked him off balance. He fell into Ginny, who recognized immediately that he'd not at all recovered from his arousal outside. She grinned wickedly and thrust against him before helping him steady himself. Another arm shot out, and suddenly Dam was there, grinning drunkenly at both of them. He'd apparently been the source of the shove.

"Sorry Potter," he said. "Didn't see . . . whatever it was I tripped on." He nudged Ginny. "I'm better on a broom, have you seen me fly a broom?"

Ginny laughed. "I have, Dam. You're very skilled on a broom. Now we just have to work on walking across floors."

Dam threw back his head and laughed. "Good one, Weasley, I've always thought you were funnier than I am." He looked around. "But let's grab that table over there before I trip again." He nodded to a booth with a 'Reserved for Arrows' sign on it. Dam grabbed Ginny's hand and tugged. "Come on, Potter, you too," he said.

HPHPHPHP

"Right behind you," said Harry. He picked up his and Ginny's drinks and dropped some money on the bar before following Dam and Ginny through the crowd. He knew he should probably be looking anywhere else besides Ginny's dress-covered bum, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. _No one else knows she's not wearing knickers. _ The thought was tantalizing. He wanted to get back to Ginny's knicker-absent bits as quickly as possible, wanted to get his own bits uncovered as well. And then they could . . .

Harry forced his thoughts away from what he and Ginny would hopefully be doing before long. Yes, he was still wearing his traveling cloak, but the pub was warm and he'd be expected to take it off soon. He waved at Kipling Cross, who had a sloppy smile on his face as he talked to two identically dressed wizards, and finally arrived at the Arrows booth. Ginny and Dam were sitting across from each other, and Harry hesitated only a second before quickly pulling off his cloak and sliding in beside Ginny. He arranged the cloak across his lap and heard Ginny give a little snort of laughter. She knew exactly what his problem was, and that made Harry even more aroused. He pushed the wine glass across the table. "Here," he said, picking up his ale and draining half of it. The warmth spread through his body and he felt himself regain a modicum of control.

Ginny leaned forward and put her chin in her hand as she gazed at Dam. "Was there a good crowd there tonight?" she asked. Harry looked at her, confused. Ginny had listened to the game, she knew the size of the crowd. A moment later, he bit back a yelp. From Dam's perspective, Ginny was wholly engrossed in asking him about how the Quidditch match had gone. At least, Harry assumed that was why Ginny had twisted her body the way she had. To Dam, it must seem as if Ginny's second hand, the one not currently cupping her chin, was sitting in her lap and not actually under the cloak, cupping Harry's erection. He didn't dare look at her but couldn't help but shuffle a bit. Ginny gripped tighter.

"How many fans do you usually get at an away game?" she asked.

Dam waved expansively. "More than any other team in the league," he said proudly. "'Cept maybe the Harpies. They have a regular fan club, follows 'em around. Bigger than ours because theirs is the only one that's mostly blokes."

"They can't be as persistent as your fans, though," said Ginny. She sat up a bit to take a sip of her drink while her other hand crawled towards Harry's zipper. "Do you . . . ahem," she suddenly coughed. Simultaneously, Harry felt her open his zipper and slip her hand inside.

Harry was forced to fake a coughing fit of his own. Ginny ran her hand up his penis, tickled the end, and removed her hand, leaving him unzipped. She picked up her glass and calmly took a sip of wine before turning to him. "Are you all right, Harry? Do you need a pat on the back?" Ginny held up the hand that had moments before been stroking him.

Harry wanted to give up right then, gossip be damned. He and Ginny were obviously much more than a casual snog, or even a casual shag, so what did it matter if everyone found out now or in a month?

The pop of a flashbulb and excited scream of a fanwitch across the pub brought Harry back to his senses. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he didn't want Ginny's family to learn the news by reading it in the Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly. He took another drink of ale. And he didn't want to give up the alone time he and Ginny both wanted either. They were having enough time avoiding interruptions as it was; he could only imagine their difficulties once everyone else knew what was going on. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Ginny with a friendly smile. "I think I'm okay now, but thanks," he said.

Ginny smiled cheekily. "I'm glad to hear it," she said. Her eyes twinkled, and Harry wondered what else she had planned for him. And could no one else really tell?

Apparently not. Across the table, Dam was holding his glass up to his face, seemingly fascinated by the dregs of swirling fiery liquid left inside. "Where have I seen this before?" he asked.

"Maybe in the last, how many, three or four you drank?" asked Ginny. There was no bite to her words. Dam nodded solemnly. "Yes, that's it. I drank some before." He drained his cup and smacked his lips. "That's good."

"It looks kind of like the liquid in a Pensive," said Harry thoughtfully. "Except for the color."

Ginny stared at him as if she'd just remembered something. "I thought so too," she said. "The way it dances around but doesn't spill." Harry saw her glance quickly at Dam, who was still looking with fascination at his now empty glass. "That reminds me, I don't think Kane and Robards agree about what memories to ask us for. You and me, I mean. Or how to ask. And I don't think Robards and Camilla think that Kane is going about it in the right way with me . . . and you. Us." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not making any sense, am I?" She cocked her head at Harry. "What kind of memories did Kane want to get from you? Or was there something else he wanted you to do?"

Harry shook head, trying to follow Ginny's train of thought. It didn't help that she'd slid closer to him to grab her wine, and now her thigh was pressed up against his. Her barely clothed thigh, which led to her completely unclothed . . . _Focus Potter, _he counseled himself. He shook his head, trying to remember what Ginny had said. "Kane?" he asked. He shook his head again and tried to think, but Ginny's proximity and the ale was making his brain sluggish. "I didn't really work with Kane."

"But he said. . ." Ginny began. Then she glanced at Dam. "It can wait," she said instead. She leaned across the table. "Congratulations on your win, Dam."

Dam looked up and grinned. "It was a good win," he said. "We played well. Potter here was a machine, finding the Snitch so quickly." He looked at his glass again. "Do you think you can do that refilling spell?" He gave them an apologetic look. "I'm not that good at magic, you know. All those complicated words to remember."

Harry looked quickly at Ginny. Yes, the two of them had talked about Dam's weakness at magic, and Dam had admitted as much to Harry, but the Keeper usually tried to mask the fact from everyone else. He must have been more drunk than Harry realized. He picked up Dam's empty glass and sniffed at it.

"Sorry mate, I don't think I can," he said. "I don't know the original ingredients. "I'm sure the server will be back soon though."

Dam nodded. "That makes sense," he said. "You always make sense. Both of you." He turned his gaze to Ginny. "I'm glad we have an Auror in the building. Cause I'm not good at magic. Especially defensive spells." He chuckled. "But I'm good at defense in Quidditch, aren't I? Best Keeper in the league, right?"

Harry frowned. One admission about his magic was okay, but he'd never heard Dam be so open before. Next to him, Ginny pushed her wine away and casually did the same to Harry's ale. She leaned forward.

"So, you learned your magic at home? That must have been fascinating." Ginny's voice was light and almost flirty, and if Harry hadn't been trying to figure out what was going on, he might have laughed. Instead, he stayed very still, not wanting to interrupt whatever Ginny was trying to learn.

Dam nodded. "My parents were simple people," he said. "They'd been taught at home, and it was enough. They were older when I was finally born, and were certainly happy to have me around. When my Hogwarts letter came, we burned it and went out to play Quidditch." He looked at Harry's ale. "Are you going to drink that?"

Harry picked up his wand. "It's almost empty; let me see if I can refill it first. And Ginny's." Quickly, he said the spell and watched with some relief as both of their glasses refilled. "There you go," he said carefully. "Pure ale and pure wine. I couldn't have done the spell otherwise."

Next to him, Ginny nodded imperceptibly and picked up her wine again. "Good to know," she said, taking a sip. Then she turned back to Dam. "You and your parents are close, then?"

Dam nodded. "They were so proud of me, joining the Arrows. Quidditch is all my dad ever put stock in, you know." He frowned. "But times were easier then, weren't they? I don't remember much about the bad years; I don't think any of us were skilled enough in magic to attract attention of the Ministry. We're pure blood, and that's all they really cared about. But how many times have I almost gotten in trouble for not knowing how to protect myself?" Dam shook his head. "I'm glad you both live near me, that's for sure. I need the protection." His gloomy face brightened suddenly. "About time!" he said.

The server was suddenly leaning over their table, a freshly made batch of specials levitating in front of her. "How many would you like, hon? Maybe share with your friends this time?" She gestured grandly.

Harry felt Ginny start. She squeezed his thigh tightly for a second and then let go, and Harry knew it was not a sexual advance. "Actually, I think our friend here has had enough," she said brightly. "How many have you had, Dam, three? Four?"

"Four or five," Dam said vaguely. He was watching the floating glasses with avid interest.

"More than enough then," said Ginny firmly. She turned to Dam. "Didn't you say you wanted to talk to Harry about some new defensive moves that incorporated his Seeking skills with yours as Keeper? This would be a great time to do that, don't you think? My mum sent over sticky toffee pudding; we could have a bite together." Harry felt Ginny hand stir against his again. After a second, Dam nodded.

"I did say that," he said. He looked sadly at the server. "I guess another drink will have to wait," he said. He fumbled with his pocket. "How much do I owe?"

"I've got it," said Harry quickly. He threw some money on the table. "I've never repaid you for my hazing night."

The server hadn't spoken at all during the exchange. Harry thought she looked rather sharply at Ginny, who stared frankly back at her. "Thank you for your service," she said sweetly. "It looks like Dam here really enjoyed his drinks, but now it's time we get him home."

Lips tightened, the server nodded. "Next time, then," she said, before abruptly banishing the drinks and turning away.

Ginny's voice was low in Harry's ear. "Can you take him Side-Along? Out the back, if possible. I want to check on my brothers, see what they're drinking. I'll meet you at home."

Harry nodded. "I can't tell if he's drunk or if he's . . ."

"Shhh," hissed Ginny. "I know. Let's get him to his flat." She looked around. "No one seems to have noticed anything."

"I don't see anyone holding a special anymore," said Harry. He watched as Dam lurched to his feet.

"I'm not surprised," muttered Ginny. "Good thing the table is near the back door, isn't it?" She reached out and almost touched Harry's arm in goodbye before pulling back. Maybe it seemed like no one had noticed them sitting together, but she could have missed someone watching. Harry gave her a small smile before directing Dam to the back door. Harry stopped to say something to a couple of his teammates, gesturing to Dam, who played his part by standing next to Harry, unusually quiet and docile.

Ginny turned away and walked over to Fred and George's table. They were both drinking Firewhiskey, she noted with relief. And Katie and Angelina had ale. She made small talk with them for what felt like far too long before pleading a headache and leaving through the front door.

Harry was waiting for her outside, at their building's private Apparation point. Dam was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

Harry looked concerned. "I wanted you to help get him through the wards in case he can't say the password. I'm not sure what that drink did to him."

"That potion, you mean," said Ginny grimly. "Let's get on either side of him. Hopefully he can say the word 'Quidditch' well enough to get inside.

Harry said a quick spell to lighten how much Dam weighed and together, he and Ginny walked Dam through the wards. He was still able to speak enough to get inside, and walked into the lift and down the hallway, but no matter how many times Harry and Ginny asked and encouraged and prodded, he was completely unable to raise his wand high enough to unlock the door to his flat. Harry made his own attempt, using Dam's wand and trying to impersonate the locking spell Dam had mumbled. The lock rattled more loudly for him, but still the door stayed shut.

"Bill did too good of a job this time," he said. He sighed and looked at Ginny. "My flat, I guess." Dam's legs suddenly gave way. "But I'll need some help."

Together, he and Ginny levitated Dam down the hall and onto the sofa in Harry's flat. Ginny covered him with a blanket and then they both stood, watching him sleep.

"Should I get a bucket?" asked Harry with a grimace. The thought of Dam vomiting all over his flat was enough to make him want to redouble his efforts to take the man home.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't think he's as much drunk as . . . doused," she said.

"With some sort of truth potion," said Harry bluntly. "He'd never have told us so much otherwise."

Ginny nodded. "Our server was in disguise," she said. "She's the temporary potions master for the Aurors. Transfiguration job wasn't bad, but she had the same color nail polish as . . . Sascha, I think her name was."

"Are you sure?" asked Harry. "Why would she be working at the pub, do you think?" It was disconcerting, not to have recognized the possible threat, even there was no reason he should have. He had no doubt Ginny was right though.

"I'm sure it was her," said Ginny. "I've seen her twice now and both times her hands looked the same as tonight. And there was something about her personality that felt familiar; as if she was trying too hard to hide who she really was." She looked at Harry. "She wanted us to drink the potion."

Harry nodded. "I know. But why? What would she have to gain by having you and I confess how we feel to each other?" He looked at her seriously. "We already know how we feel, don't we?" His voice sounded unexpectedly vulnerable.

"We do," agreed Ginny. "Although there'll always be more to share." She ran her hand down his cheek. "I want to get to know you even better and I want you to know me." She gave a small smirk. "Just not in a public bar." Harry put his arms around her then and Ginny leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. He played idly with her hair and she made a soft sound of contentment that made Harry's agitation dissipate. These were the moments he wanted, that he had waited for all these years. That the waiting hadn't been in vain still amazed him sometimes.

Ginny huffed to herself; Harry wasn't surprised that she was still thinking about the pub even as she kissed along his jaw; he was too. 'Auror brain' he thought of it.

"There has to be something more to Sascha and her reasons for the potion, but I can't figure out what it is," she said, sounding frustrated. "Is it related to her work for the Aurors or something completely separate?" Dam shuffled on the sofa before Harry could answer and Ginny walked over to him and straightened his blanket until he quieted again.

She looked at Harry and frowned. "Ron had one of those drinks. He was going on about how much he loved Hermione. Luckily he stopped at one." She looked down at Dam's sleeping form and then at Harry. "How many did he say he'd had?"

"Four or five, I think. What exactly do you think it was? He was definitely more open than I've ever heard him, but wasn't exactly confessing facts. He couldn't tell me exactly how many drinks he had. He was more giving us opinions or something. Or emotions. Is there a potion that could do that? I didn't . . . didn't really use potions with the Aurors. I don't think."

He thought Ginny's gave him an odd look before she nodded. "We've just been learning about them. Hmmm. Not Veritaserum, that one requires more specific questioning. Dam was telling us more about . . . some of his private thoughts, it seemed." She sighed. "If anyone else at the bar had that special, there's going to be a lot of sloppy confessions for a while."

"Maybe," said Harry slowly. He was trying to remember exactly what Dam had told them; unfortunately, his recollections were blurred by the concurrent memory of the feel of Ginny's hand, opening his zipper. That reminded him, and he looked down. "Ooops," he said, zipping himself up.

Ginny snorted. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I wanted to return the favor." She frowned. "I didn't realize at the time . . ."

"Neither did I," said Harry. "How could we? But it was impressive how quickly you caught on that the drink was not right, and considered that our own could have been tampered with too. I'm not sure I would have."

Ginny shrugged. "You recognized that Dam was acting unusually," she said. "And checked our drinks. That was brilliant." She sighed. "I'm not sure what we do now. If Sascha is working with Robards or Kane, I can't exactly go to them. Although somehow, I suspect it's only Kane. He's the one who seems much more interested in the truth potions." She looked at Harry. "Now I see what you mean, when you said you're sure Dam isn't Dark. Robards is more concerned about children who aren't getting taught enough, not that they're being taught evil. I can see how Dam could get himself in trouble, unable to protect himself."

"Well now he has you," chuckled Harry. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out why something Ginny had said was bothering him. She noticed.

"What is it?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "There's something I meant to tell you, something about the truth potions, I think. It keeps slipping away though." He shrugged. Maybe if I give up thinking about it I'll remember again."

"Maybe," said Ginny slowly. "Is it about Kane?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not him," he said instantly. It's something else." He looked at Dam. "Is he going to be all right?"

HPHPHPHP

Ginny nodded at Harry. She was beginning to have a theory about Harry and his departure from the Aurors, but she didn't want to delve into it just then. It was still just a half-formed thought, and she needed to talk to Hermione first, at a minimum. Instead, she looked around the flat and grabbed Ron's copy of the Auror's potions book off the table where he'd apparently been reading it. Flipping to a dog-earred page, she read rapidly before relaxing.

"I don't know exactly what was in that potion, but it seems to fall under the category of _emotional admissions_, she said. "Dam told us things that were specific to the way he interacted with us, did you notice? My questions were simple catalysts." She read some more. "He'll sleep for hours," she said. But should wake up feeling okay, maybe just a little headache. And no real memory of what he said."

Harry looked down at Dam's sleeping form. "So we can just leave him here?" He looked around and his voice took on a more suggestive tone. "And Ron and Hermione are at . . ."

"Hermione's flat," said Ginny. She swallowed, catching onto Harry's train of thought. The situation at the bar was concerning, but not imminently dangerous, and there was really nothing they could do at the moment. Her brain was most definitely focused elsewhere anyway. When Harry stepped closer and put his hand on her back, she didn't try to hold back her shiver of anticipation. She leaned into him and he wrapped his arm more firmly around her waist.

"Let's go now, before any of your teammates decide to come home early," she said.

"I'm glad you live so close," said Harry.

But it wasn't until they were actually in her flat, and she and Harry had both added wards to the door and windows (many more than they'd ever need), that Ginny let the soft thrum of anticipation she'd felt ever since Harry had touched her in the alley blossom into something more. And clearly, Harry felt it too. She'd no sooner set the final ward at her window than he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His erection found her bum immediately, and Ginny leaned into the pressure while Harry pushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her. He was breathing hard already, and Ginny felt him thrust against her backside. She turned around.

"We had foreplay in the alley," she said. "Can we just get in bed?"

Harry laughed out loud. "Afraid we'll be interrupted again before I get you to climax?" he said.

"Possibly," Ginny allowed. She dropped her hand down between them and unzipped Harry's trousers again. "I'm also just really randy."

Harry swallowed hard. "Me too," he said. "When you did that in the pub it was all I could do not to suggest we lock ourselves in the men's loo."

Ginny smirked. "Maybe one day we'll be ready to fool around in a loo, Potter. Right now, I just want the bed." She grabbed his hand and tugged him in that direction. He followed willingly, working at his belt with the hand she wasn't holding. She squeezed his hand. "Why don't you let me do that?" Harry immediately stopped what he was doing immediately and dropped his hands to his sides.

"As long as I get you to come first," he said.

Harry was good to his word. He let Ginny undo his trousers and pushe mthe down with his pants until he could step out of both, and then lifted his hands agreeably so she could pull his shirt over his head. He watched her, penis sticking straight out, while she examined him in the dim light.

"I could see you better that other morning, with the sunbeam on you," Ginny said. "But I like the way you look standing up." She reached out and stroked him and Harry groaned.

"Just because you can see how ready I am doesn't mean you have to take care of me first," he said. He gave her a shy smile. "There are things I want to try on you anyway. Things I think I'm going to enjoy too."

Ginny swallowed. "What kind of things," she asked thickly.

Harry was busily working to get Ginny as naked as he was. "You'll have to wait and see," he said cheekily. He'd already unbuttoned her robes and Ginny shrugged them off. "It's so easy when you don't bother with underthings," he said happily, eyes roving up and down. "But nothing you don't want," he said hastily, looking her in the eye. "I didn't mean that you'd have to go along with . . . what I have planned. You can say no."

"I know I can," said Ginny. She'd been doing quite a bit of thinking over the past week. She wasn't nervous. If anything, the idea of being with Harry was almost too comfortable and appealing, considering it had been barely a month since Harry's original confession, and less time than that since she'd reciprocated her feelings. Shouldn't they take it slowly before jumping into bed?

The problem was, Ginny didn't exactly want to take things slowly.

She regarded Harry, who was still standing quietly, waiting for her. While she didn't know exactly what Harry had planned, she could more or less guess that it included being nearly as intimate as two people could be with each other, without him actually being inside her. In some ways, it even felt more intimate. They were both already naked, quite alone, and about to climb together into bed. Whether or not they lost their virginity tonight didn't really change anything between them, regardless of what Witch Weekly might say. Things had already changed. But she wasn't quite sure how to say it to Harry.

So instead, she stepped closer until his erection skimmed her belly. He reached down to adjust himself and moved until they were so close there was no space between them at all.

Desire welled up inside of Ginny. It took all her patience not to grab Harry again and stroke him until he groaned, or, better yet, to drop to her knees and pleasure him that way. Still, she couldn't stop herself from running her hands up and down Harry's back, pausing at his bum to push him against her before moving her hands up again.

"I like to make you feel good," she said. She rose on her tiptoes so she could kiss Harry's shoulder.

He shivered and then grabbed her wrists. "Oh no you don't," he said. "If you don't stop that and let me take care of you, I might have to put my trousers back on."

Ginny laughed. "I'd like to see you try, in your current state." Still, she stopped trying to kiss and touch Harry everywhere she could and waited while he considered her critically.

"There's plenty I could do standing up," he said. "But not tonight." With a wicked look, he suddenly scooped Ginny up and carried her over to her bed.

Ginny was acutely aware of every place her skin touched Harry's. Her hip pressed against the muscles of his stomach and one of his hands brushed against her breast. She laid her head on his neck and breathed in his scent, still mostly the soap her mum made but now mixed with a bit of ale and also something woodsier.

He dropped her gently on the bed and then climbed up after her, kneeling in the space between her legs. "I kind of want to do a lot of things at once," he admitted. "I can't figure out what to try first."

Ginny grinned and stroked down Harry's penis, which hovered tantalizingly over her belly. "It's not a bad problem to have," she pointed out. She stroked again. "For example, if I sat up just a little bit, like this," – she demonstrated – "I could take you in my mouth, and I'd definitely enjoy that. But if I stay leaning back against the pillows, I could touch you, and see your face at the same time." Again, Ginny demonstrated, and watched with satisfaction at the way Harry closed his eyes when he shivered. "Both of those things arouse me," she concluded. She took her hands off Harry and waited until he opened his eyes again. He was already struggling for control, she could tell. He swallowed.

"Those are both good things," he managed. "But you first." He lowered himself down to lie on top of her, his face almost equal to hers. "You can make your choices about me later."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows. Instead of leaning in for a kiss as Ginny expected, he watched her for a long minute, a small smile playing on his face. Ginny could feel him pulsing lower down, against her stomach, but his top half was perfectly still, save for the soft puffs of breath she felt when he breathed out.

"You're really beautiful," he said finally, and Ginny had the impression he'd been building up the confidence to say so.

"I'm so happy to be here with you," she said as a thank you. "And not just because "I think you're extremely sexy," she added. "That's just kind of an extra perk."

Any thought she had that returning Harry's compliment might seem patronizing or gratuitous dissipated when he smiled shyly at her. "You do?" he asked, the pleasure in his voice was obvious.

"Come on, Harry, you must know how attractive you are," Ginny teased. "How many covers of Witch Weekly have you been on?"

Harry lowered himself down off his elbows and rolled onto his side next to Ginny. "Well that's just it," he said, snuggling close against her and hitching a leg over hers. "They want to sell magazines. The Arrows want people to come to their games. I killed Voldemort, so it's easy to market me as strong and yet sensitive." He sighed. "Half our fans think they're in love with me just because of what they've read, or how I look in my uniform." He tucked a lock of Ginny's hair behind her ear. "I hope that your opinions are based on a foundation that's a bit more . . .solid."

Ginny didn't make the obvious joke, about what else was solid right now.

"My Fifth Year, when I played on the Gryffindor team," she said after a moment. "Some of the girls I knew were always going on about how 'hot' you were and how lucky I was to get to see you in the changing room. Stuff like that."

"And what did you say to them?" asked Harry. He was tracing circles on her stomach and for a second, Ginny lost her train of thought.

"That umm, that I . . . " she gave him a sheepish smile. "That I thought you were kind of a prat," she admitted. "Because at the time, I did."

Harry barked out a laugh. "That's brilliant," he gasped, shuffling himself until he was back on top of her again. Ginny felt his penis nestle comfortably into the dip of her thigh. "I'm so glad you thought that."

Ginny laughed too, and watched in satisfaction as Harry's eyes went a bit unfocused for a moment as her body vibrated against his. "I didn't really revise my opinion until I'd gotten to know you this year. Then it more or less hit me like a Bludger."

"When you came to our training," Harry remembered. He began skimming himself up and down Ginny's body.

Ginny put her hands on Harry's hips to move him where she wanted him to be; he complied amiably, lowering himself at her direction so that she could feel every part of him brush over her skin. "That was a good day," she agreed. "I went home that night and . . . well, _confirmed_ that I was physically attracted to you as much as I thought I was.

Harry froze for a second and shuddered, before continuing his journey up and down Ginny's body. When his face was opposite hers, he bent down to kiss up her neck and across her jaw before finally meeting her lips. "I'm glad you finally caught up with me," he said. "I'd been thinking about how physically attracted to you I was since I was fifteen."

Ginny laughed again, purposely bouncing against Harry a bit harder than needed just to hear the sounds he made in response. She held him in place when he began kissing her, and for several long minutes, that was all they did. Ginny ran her hands up and down Harry's back, tickled his waist, moved to his neck. Harry was kissing her back intently, but at the same time was thrusting against her lower down. Ever so often, his penis would brush against her curls or skim over some more sensitive bit of flesh until Ginny was tingling all over from his unconscious movements.

Harry suddenly broke contact and began moving lower, a look of concentration on his face as he slowly explored her. This time, Ginny didn't try to stop him, even when he bypassed her breasts and gently pushed apart her thighs before settling there. He kissed her gently on the inside of one leg, and then the other before looking up at her. "Is this okay?"

"I would have stopped you if it wasn't," said Ginny.

Harry going down on her had figured in more than a few of Ginny's fantasies over the last month. Still, when he paused for a moment and looked _there_, running one finger and then another up and down her folds, Ginny wondered a bit at the fact she wasn't at all embarrassed. When he touched a particularly sensitive spot and she moaned, the look of concentration on Harry's face was joined by something close to wonder

"Hand. . . or mouth?" she heard him mutter. "Or both?" He slipped a finger inside of her and tentatively touched her with his tongue in the general vicinity of her clit and Ginny's hips bucked. He looked up at her. "Do you think I could use both?"

"If you don't try I'm going to hex you," gasped Ginny. "Keep doing whatever you're doing."

Harry chuckled to himself and then lowered his head again. "I should try a levitation charm," he said almost conversationally, in between the soft touches of his tongue and more purposeful movements with his fingers. "I wouldn't have to prop myself up and could use both hands."

"Next time," said Ginny. She arched her back and couldn't help but push herself against Harry's mouth. "More with your tongue. _Please_."

Her begging seemed to spur something on in Harry. Suddenly the pressure on her clit and the pressure of his fingers increased. His tongue moved faster, first in and out and then back to the sensitive spot that made Ginny scream with pleasure. Harry was sucking on her in a way that was better than anything she had imagined when she came, digging her heels into the bed while waves of enjoyment washed over her and Harry's movements eased until he was again giving her light kisses on the inside of Ginny's thighs. He moved up to rest his head on her stomach and she idly played with his hair while her breath slowed.

"That was . . . I'm not sure I have the words," she said. "It's so much better than when I do it myself."

"It definitely is," agreed Harry. He sounded alert and eager, and Ginny could feel how hard he still was. And she was still tingling, her hips rising and falling against the feeling of Harry thrusting against her leg.

With a fluid motion, Ginny sat up and pushed Harry over onto his back. "Good thing witches aren't like blokes," she said. She straddled him and then lay down flush on top, much the way he had. "I'm not ready to roll over and go to sleep." She reached down and took him in hand, tickling his penis across her lower stomach.

"It would serve me right if you did," said Harry in a strained voice. He put his hands on Ginny's hips. "But I can promise, it's not going to take that much effort. Going down on you was fucking amazing." He thrust up into Ginny's hand.

"Well then, I'm just going to have to see how long I can get you to last," she teased. She moved up to kiss him and he pulled back.

"Do you mind?" he asked. "That I just . . . you know."

"I don't mind," said Ginny. She leaned over and kissed him and found that although he tasted a bit odd, it really didn't matter. She propped herself up. "I'll expect you to kiss me after I take care of you that way though," she teased.

"Anything," promised Harry.

Ginny reached down between them again and began teasing herself with the tip of Harry's penis. He hissed. "Ginny . . . that's . . . damn," he said. He reached up a hand to cup Ginny's chin, tilting her head until she could look him in the eye. "You know we don't have to . . . do everything," he said. "You could just touch me, and it would be plenty."

"I know," said Ginny. She stopped moving for a second. "Is that what you want? For me to just . . touch you? Or use my mouth?" She rubbed him against her clit and tensed up, feeling her arousal building again. "Because that's fine," she said. "But . . . in that case, you might have to take care of me again afterwards." Without consciously thinking about it, she lowered herself just the barest bit onto Harry and then pulled back again.

"Oh Merlin," Harry groaned. "Do that again."

Ginny grinned. "As you wish," she said. She lowered herself down and then up. Harry was barely entering her at all, but coming off her first orgasm, the feeling was intense. She paused for a second, locking eyes with Harry. His were wide, watching her. She could feel him trembling, and she realized it was both arousal and the effort of waiting for her. She knew if she suddenly moved lower and took him in her mouth, he wouldn't be disappointed at all. He'd lose control and swear an oath of pleasure as he finished, and then he'd rally his last bit of energy to bring her to climax again too. She was still for another moment, and then knew she was sure.

"I want you inside of me. I want us to get there together," she said. She leaned forward to give Harry a kiss. He deepened it immediately, as if kissing was they only thing on his mind, and Ginny let herself get lost in it. And then, slowly, lowered herself onto Harry. This time, she didn't stop, even when it stung a little, and then some more, and then when she felt stretched in every direction. She wiggled, trying to get more comfortable, and kept focusing on the feel of Harry's lips and the way his hands traveled up and down her back. After a minute the worst of the discomfort passed and Ginny pulled away from the kiss and looked at Harry.

"Does it hurt?" he asked. He moved his hands to her waist and Ginny knew he was probably aching to thrust.

"A little bit," she said honestly. "But it's getting better." She put her hands on his chest and lifted herself up about halfway before dropping back down. Harry groaned. "Do that again," he said. "_Please._"

It reminded Ginny of when she'd asked him to work more on her with his tongue, and even though there was still a little pain, her desire to bring Harry pleasure was greater. She moved up again and then down, and then again, faster. Each time, the discomfort lessened, and when Harry suddenly gripped her hips more tightly to hold her in place, the pain was nearly gone.

Harry's eyes were shut but he unerringly found her clit and pressed on it with his thumb, thrusting himself so high that Ginny's knees came off the bed.

"I'm close," he gasped, and his thumb moved in a circle on her. "Are you?"

"Stop thinking of me," Ginny commanded. "Let yourself go." She moved her hand down to cover Harry's. "I'll get there."

Harry's hand fell away as he thrust harder, his rhythm erratic. Ginny did her best to match him, and was surprised when the feeling of him deep inside starting bringing her back to her own peak. She moved her hand faster.

Harry got there first, crying out her name as he finished and then shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Ginny watched his face, and as soon as he opened his eyes, Harry clasped her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her without even bothering to pull out first. He began kissing every part of face.

"That was . . . like you said before, I'm not sure I have words." His voice was more languid and relaxed than Ginny had ever heard. He ran his hand down her back. "Did it hurt very much the entire time?"

Ginny shook her head against his chest. "Mostly at the beginning," she said. "By the time you climaxed it was feeling pretty good for me too."

"Oh, but you didn't . . ." Harry tried to sit up, reaching down towards Ginny's waist. She pushed him back down.

"It's okay, Harry. I don't need another orgasm this second." She smirked. "Just at some point later tonight." She swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Actually, I need the loo anyway."

Harry laughed. "Later then."

They made love a second time that night and Ginny was pleased to inform Harry that it didn't hurt at all and moreover, she liked having orgasms during sex as much as she did when he used his mouth. The night was inky black when Harry reluctantly pulled his clothes back on in preparation to return to his flat.

"Hopefully Dam hasn't moved," he said, kissing her gently by the door. "Go for a run tomorrow?"

"I'd like that," Ginny said. "And then I'd like some other sort of exercise too, if we can figure out where we can have a private workout."

Harry grinned. "I'll build a house somewhere if that's what it takes to get you alone," he said.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny closed the door behind Harry and leaned against it, grinning to herself. She was perfectly sated, for probably the first time in her life; even her tiredness felt right. Her bed – the bed still rumpled from their lovemaking – sat invitingly, waiting for her to sleep. It was still going to smell like Harry – like _them both_, she knew. An enormous yawn split her face. Not even bothering with pajamas, she walked across her flat.

A frantic banging startled her. She whirled around, cursing the fact that she was naked, and that her wand was still on her bedside table. In that frozen moment, Harry's voice traveled through the air.

"Ginny, open up, quickly."

Despite her certainty at Harry's voice, Ginny forced herself not to fling open her door. Instead, she grabbed her wand and her robe and didn't approach her door again until both were in their proper place.

"Harry?" she hissed through the lock.

"Open up!" he said back. "We forgot something. Before. When we . . . made love."

That was proof enough for Ginny, and she opened the door to find Harry standing there, still looking disheveled in his trousers and shirt, a look very close to panic on his face. Without waiting for her word, he pushed into her flat and shut the door.

Ginny felt an icy pit of fear in her stomach. _She shouldn't have ignored her suspicions about the pub, should have figured out someone to tell right away._

"Who's hurt?" she asked. "Is it the potion? Is Dam okay?

Harry shook his head at her, confused. "No, nothing like that. And Dam's fine. Still asleep for now, thank Merlin. We have to figure out a way to get him out of my flat without him . . . damn." He ran his hand through his hair. "Did you say he won't remember what happened in the pub?"

Ginny nodded slowly. She had no idea what was going on, but it didn't seem like anyone was in danger. She wrapped her robe more tightly around herself and lowered her wand. "I did the contraceptive charm," she said. "While you were in the loo. I didn't forget it."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that," he said. "And actually, I did too." Now he looked more embarrassed than panicked. "Ginny, I'm so sorry. I'll try to figure out a way to keep you out of this, I promise." He sank onto her sofa and looked at her beseechingly.

Ginny sat beside him and took his hand. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together," she said firmly.

Harry grimaced. "I'm not sure you're going to feel that way when you hear what it is," he said. "We forgot about the _poster._"


	23. Catching the Snitch

A/N: Once again, I'm posting a chapter that ends in a different place than I intended. The next two scenes are going to be fun, but they're going to take some time and really need their own chapter. Enjoy the Weasley Banter - it's one of my favorite things to write. :)

Ginny looked stupidly at Harry. "The poster?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "My official team photo. Dam hung it in our flat to keep track of . . . my action." He groaned and dropped his head back on the sofa. "It looks different now."

The last of Ginny's post-orgasm glow cleared from her brain as she remembered. "It's the one you can't see all the time, right?" Indeed, Ginny had gotten so used to the poster winking in and out of existence on the wall of the sitting room that she barely noticed it anymore when she was in Ron and Harry's flat. Dam still made occasional comments about finding Harry a witch 'to make the poster happy' but Ginny had always assumed Harry and said witch had to actually be in sight of the poster to make a difference. It hadn't occurred to her for a second that anything that happened elsewhere might have an effect.

"I thought Ron said it was only to keep track of how many women you brought back to the flat," she said slowly. "You and I haven't been to your flat since we . . . became more than friends."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Apparently, the charm is a little more precise than that," he said. "You'd better come see for yourself."

Harry's flat was much the way it had been when Ginny had left it several hours earlier, right down to Dam snoring on the sofa. But now, the darkness was interrupted by a glowing light on the far wall, where Harry's poster was no longer popping in and out of view. Now it was as permanently visible as the other Quidditch posters that decorated the room. The official photo was Harry in his uniform, standing with his broom, and just as he had every other time Ginny had seen it, he looked off to the side for a moment and then back to the front with a wink. The first time Ginny had seen it, she'd thought it cocky. Now she knew that Harry had been following the direction of someone just off camera.

But none of that mattered now that the poster also boasted a large, official looking scoreboard over Harry's left shoulder. In the spot where the Arrows' team name would normally be was the word **Potter **in shining green ink and right below was, apparently, his 'score'. The number 2 was glowing even brighter than Harry's name and sending out red and green sparks into the room. Ginny stared at it in horror.

"It keeps track of how many times you've had sex?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she pointed her wand at the glowing number.

"Ginny, no," Harry hissed, but it was too late. Her _Evanesco_ hit the poster with a crackle, but instead of disappearing, it only shone brighter.

"**And Potter catches the Snitch! Twice!"** A voice that sounded disconcertingly like the Arrow's official announcer blared through the room. On the couch, Dam groaned and rolled over.

"I already tried that," said Harry.

"Sorry," muttered Ginny. "At least it doesn't have my name on it too."

Harry shuddered. "I didn't even think of that."

Ginny peered closely at the poster. "Did you try to take it down?"

"I tried when Dam first put it up. It has a temporary sticking charm on it that lasts until I've been with the team for an entire year."

Ginny looked at Harry in horror. "Another six months? " Dam groaned again and Ginny froze. She pushed Harry in the direction of his bedroom. "Go mess up your bed and put pajamas on," she said quickly. "You were asleep, alone, when you heard Dam groaning and went to get me because you were worried. You haven't seen me since you left me talking to my brothers at the pub."

Harry nodded in understanding and disappeared. Ginny watched the prone figure on the sofa, hoping he wouldn't wake up fully until Harry returned. Fortunately, they happened at the same time. When Dam finally opened his eyes, Ginny was kneeling by his head holding a glass of water, a concerned look on her face. Harry was standing right behind her, wand out.

"Whaazaaa, huh?" Dam asked, rubbing his eyes. He squinted at Ginny. "Weasley?"

Ginny turned around and looked at Harry. "You see? I told you he'd be fine." She added a bit of her old annoyance into her voice. "No need to come wake me up." When she spoke to Dam, her voice was much more gentle. "How are you feeling? I think you got the worst of it, but no permanent damage. Why don't you drink some water?

HPHPHPHP

Harry was amazed at Ginny's calm. The story she spun about a mistake the pub had made brewing the special drink was close enough to the truth that anyone else's experience would corroborate it. She was at once both sleepily irritated as if Harry had just woken her, and professionally reassuring to Dam that he had not actually been poisoned.

"I really need to be more careful," said Dam. He accepted the water Ginny offered him. "How many times have I been cursed or poisoned or charmed in the last few months?" He rubbed his eyes. "I barely remember anything from last night." He peered at Ginny. "Weren't you there?"

Harry saw Ginny's shoulders relax. "Briefly," she said. "You and I talked for a couple of minutes before I met up with my brothers Fred and George." She gave a frustrated-sounding sigh. "I should have realized there was something wrong with the drink, I'm really sorry Dam."

Dam shrugged. "Like you said, no harm done other than a few hours of memories lost." He grinned. "Did I mention that it makes me feel better to have an Auror living nearby?"

Harry wondered if the potion hadn't entirely worn off and if they needed to be concerned that Dam would remember that he'd told Ginny something similar at the pub. But Ginny just smiled.

"Or maybe it's me living here that's attracting all the danger," she said lightly. "Either way, you should get back to your flat to sleep for a couple more hours. To eliminate any residual effects of the drink."

Dam stood up agreeably and it looked as though they might get him out of the flat unaware. He slung an arm over Harry's shoulder. "So you didn't get any of the poisoned drink?"

Harry shook his head. "I had ale, fortunately," he said, reaching for the doorknob. "Maybe we can go for a run later, once you've slept a bit more."

"**And Potter catches the Snitch! Twice!"** If anything, the announcer sounded even louder this time.

Dam's head whipped around. "What the . . .?" he began. He stared at Harry's photo for a long moment, the grin on his face growing wider and wider. Then he clapped Harry on the back.

"I can't believe it!" he crowed. "Why does it figure that the one night I get poisoned and can't remember anything is the very night Potter finally gets some action?" He waggled his eyebrows. "And twice! That ale must not have been very strong for you to be able to get it up twice in one evening, right? So, who is she? Is she hot? Someone you already knew or a one-time thing? Or actually, a two-time thing." Dam laughed at his own joke and looked around the flat as if expecting a fan-witch to be hiding in the woodwork. Harry wanted to look at Ginny, to see if she was concerned about Dam's effusiveness, but he was sure he'd give something away the second he caught her eye.

Dam walked over and poked the poster with his wand, laughing out loud when it made its announcement. "Even more brilliant than I thought!" he said. He turned back to Harry. "So who is she?" The Keeper trained his eyes on Ginny. "Weasley, you've caught your share of witches in the building, did you see Potter sneaking anyone suspicious into his flat?"

"I was asleep," said Ginny weakly, just as Dam smirked "did you at least get her name?"

"She . . . she's no one," Harry stuttered. "I mean, there wasn't anyone. I didn't . . . I don't know why the poster's doing that." He gave Dam what he hoped was a perplexed look. "Maybe, uhh, maybe the spell wore off or something." Harry'd had only a moment of hesitation before deciding he'd rather suggest that Dam had cast a faulty charm than risk exposing Ginny. Next to him, she was nodding.

"That's a tricky spell," she said. She walked up next to Dam and peered at the poster as if she could see exactly what had gone wrong. "I doubt even I could get it right." She sounded so certain that Harry was half ready to believe her himself.

"I certainly couldn't get such a complicated spell right," said Dam amiably, and Harry was again struck with the thought that the man was still feeling the after-effects of the potion. "That's why I went straight to the experts – the poster's from Weasley's Whizzing Wheezes. When Fred and George heard why I wanted it they were more than happy to charm the photo themselves. Hung the temporary sticking charm too."

"Oh," said Ginny. "Oh." That's, umm, that's . . ." She seemed at a loss for words. Harry understood; Fred and George's brilliance with these sorts of things was legendary. There was no chance that the spell on the poster was anything but completely accurate. _But maybe Dam doesn't know that. _He walked over and peered at the photo himself.

"I've never seen this product before, I wonder if it's a prototype," he said. He looked at Ginny. "That would be just like your brothers, wouldn't it? To take the mickey? I'm surprised they didn't put a similar spell on the poster of me at the Burrow. You know, charmed to start talking during a family supper."

Ginny caught on quickly. She snorted. "Definitely like them," she said. "They wouldn't hesitate to use you as a guinea pig for one of their new products while they worked the kinks out. Remember what they did with me and the newts?"

"Hah," said Harry. "And somehow that ended up being my fault, didn't it?" He knocked her hip. She gave him a look that was half amused and half warning. Fortunately, Dam was still looking at the poster.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "Fred and George seemed pretty confident this would work. They'd tested it for a while, they assured me." He turned to Ginny. "On your brothers," he explained. "I think they have a score sheet somewhere." He smirked. "Bill and Fleur are by far in the lead." He looked at the poster again. "Well, there's one way to find out," he said. " I'll call the Wheezes 24 Hour Product Service Service." That should be able to clear things up in a trice." He walked over to Harry's fireplace.

"The what?" asked Ginny. "I don't think my brothers have a . . ."

Dam didn't seem to hear her. Before Harry or Ginny could say anything, he'd grabbed some floo powder and thrown it into the grate. "Wheezes 24 hour service service!" he called. "I have a problem with a product you sold me!"

"Dam, it's almost two in the morning mate," said Harry. "Do you really think Fred and George meant . . ." his voice died in his throat. For the floo flared bright green and a moment later, George's head was floating in the flames. His hair was tousled and he'd obviously been interrupted either sleeping or engaging in some other nighttime activity; it didn't look like he was wearing a shirt. George peered blearily into the room. "Did someone call? I didn't think we'd . . . oh." His eyes moved rapidly from Dam to Harry to Ginny. After a minute his gaze stopped on the far wall and his eyes brightened. "The poster?" he asked. "Oh ho! Hold on. I'm getting Fred."

Ginny shot Harry a horrified look. "I've never heard of them offering service calls," she said faintly. "I'd imagine people would be calling them all the time."

"They don't for most customers," explained Dam. "But agreed this was a special situation, it being Harry and all. Said if I had any questions, I could contact them straight away." He grinned. "So we'll get things sorted." He clapped Harry on the back. "Twice, huh?"

Before Harry could answer, George, and then Fred, stepped out of the floo. Fred was still hastily trying his robe; Harry had the terrible suspicion the man was naked underneath. Both twins were ginning and didn't seem at all put out about being awoken – or more likely, _interrupted_ – in the middle of the night. A moment later, Harry saw why when Fred reached back into the fireplace and helped Angelina and then Katie step through. His first thought was about how suited the two witches were for their partners; neither looked remotely surprised or annoyed about the turn of events. In fact, both greeted Harry with cheerful hellos and were grinning almost as widely as their boyfriends. His second thought was _oh shit._ Next to him, Ginny gave a quiet groan.

"The less we say, the better," she muttered. It was a good strategy when dealing with the twins, in theory at least. In reality, Harry had never been able to escape one of Fred and George's pranks totally unscathed, even when he'd tried to say nothing more than comments about the weather. Generally, one's best bet was to hope that majority of the twins' attention was focused on someone else and the rest would only be subject to collateral damage. Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone else here this time.

Despite the clear "we just had sex and want to again soon" aura around them, Fred and George were all business. Fred took out a magical note pad that floated in the air beside him and George put on a truly ridiculous pair of spectacles before walking over to look closely at the poster. He waved his wand and the poster proclaimed Harry's business again. Harry didn't even flinch this time - he was getting used to the announcement he supposed - but this time it didn't stop. Apparently spurned on either by George's magic or the additional audience, the poster continued its commentary as if it was watching a match.

_And Potter Catches the Snitch – Twice! The Seeker's been in particularly good form it seems. What a play! Will we see another score before long? And who's the lucky witch who's captured Potter's attention, and his loins? Stay tuned, fans!_

The room exploded in laughter. George and Fred high-fived each other, apparently pleased with the way the poster was behaving, and Katie and Angelina were conferring with each other, undoubtedly trying to figure out whom Harry had had sex with. Harry hoped that he was the only one who could tell that Ginny's chuckle was rather forced. Dam had actually fallen onto the sofa with glee.

"Loins!" he chortled, wiping his eyes. "Give it up, Potter, who's been exploring your loins?"

Fred nodded seriously at Dam. "That's a good question," he said. He put on a pair of spectacles that matched George's and watched as his twin waved his wand around the photo version of said loins. Harry couldn't help but wince when George poked the space between his legs.

"Hey!" he said indignantly.

George shrugged, nonplussed. "It's not like you can feel it, mate. Dam didn't opt for the photo-foreplay option." He looked ad Dam.

"Remind me, you decided not to buy the charm that would give up the witch's name, either, right?"

"That's right," nodded Dam. "But now I wish I had. I assumed I'd see it happen, if and when Harry ever picked up a witch." He looked thoughtful. "Did she help you get me back to the flat?"

"Why'd you need help?" asked Katie. She walked over and looped her arm through Fred's before leaning her head on his shoulder.

Harry jumped at the chance to change the subject. "There were some, umm, problems at the pub," he said. "That special drink they were selling was improperly made. It made people rather more . . . open and talkative than usual." Harry was careful not to say too much about what kind of things the potion had made Dam say. Partly because he didn't want to reveal the man's confidences, told under the influence, but even more because he didn't know if hearing them would jog Dam's memory of whom he'd spilled those confidences to.

"Ahh, so does that explain why Kipling Cross told us a long-winded story about coming out to his parents?" asked Angelina. "It was rather sweet – his dad's a baker, made him cupcakes in every color of the rainbow to celebrate."

"Probably, yes," said Ginny. She'd been very quiet until then. Now her voice took on the authoritative tone she had used to assure Dam that the potion hadn't been terribly dangerous. "I talked to Adam Ramsey before I came and sat at your table. He'd been telling me a story about, uhh, about a fight or something he'd gotten in with his best friend over a witch." She shrugged. "At least, I think that's what he was telling me. I think he'd had quite a bit of regular whiskey before he even started with the potion so it was kind of hard to follow what he was saying."

Harry was again impressed at Ginny's ability to spin a story that was true enough not to be caught as a lie. Clearly she'd learned more than a thing or two growing up with Fred and George. Her stance was relaxed. Harry could see a slight tightness around her mouth, but he suspected he was the only one who'd spent enough time watching Ginny's mouth to notice.

"So, the drink was a potion made drinkers tell emotion-filled stories about their past?" asked Fred. He gave George a look Harry recognized well. "But doesn't have any lasting side effects?"

Harry saw Ginny freeze and knew she hadn't intended to reveal that the drink was a potion. She was more rattled that she was letting on, and Harry longed to go stand beside her, much like Angelina was now standing beside George. He kept his face carefully blank.

"It's got a memory erasing component," said Ginny sharply. "The server was . . . she didn't mention it when she tried to get us to try one. She only said it would lower our inhibitions, but I assumed it was just regular alcohol and worked that way." She shook her head. "I need to tell them at work." She walked over to the table Ron used as a desk and sat down with a piece of parchment. "I want to get some notes down, don't mind me," she said.

Fred shrugged. "Yeah, okay. We don't have any interest in messing with memory potions," he said. "Too risky, although the confessing part is intriguing. I'll make a note of it." A quill appeared and scrawled something on the floating notepad. He nodded at Ginny. "But let's get back to the business at hand," he said. "The poster's why we're here." Fred looked at Dam. "You said there was something wrong with it?"

Harry groaned to himself. He should have known they'd not escape that easily. At least Ginny had come up with a way to stay out of it. She was busy writing and seemed to have barely registered what Fred asked. Harry knew it was an act, but it was a good one.

"Harry said the poster must be broken," said Dam. "Because he didn't have sex last night. Not even once." The man laughed. "But I don't believe him."

"And you shouldn't," said George. He gave Harry a reproving look. "Our magic is infalliable."

Harry sighed. "It's just that it was a little . . . awkward," he said finally. He shrugged. "You know how those witches in the pub can be." From her seat, Ginny's mouth tightened. Whether in amusement or something else, Harry wasn't quite sure. The two of them were going to have plenty to talk about once they finally got more time alone. Assuming that ever happened again. He gave another sigh. "Can we just drop it? It's done. I had sex, the poster figured it out, and that's it. If there's a way to keep the damn thing quiet now I'd appreciate it."

"That would be nice now, wouldn't it?" asked George. "To just be done with it, I mean." He had a look on his face Harry usually associated with things about to explode. Across the room, Ginny had gone still. George looked at Fred. "Did you notice the same thing I did, Gred?" he asked. "That the poster went immediately into tally mode?"

Fred nodded. "I did indeed, Forge. Most interesting. I wasn't sure how smooth the switch from default _situs_ would be, but there doesn't seem to have been any loss of data." He looked appraisingly at Harry.

_Just stay quiet_, Harry counseled himself. _Don't show any interest._ He yawned and stretched. This time, he was sure Ginny was trying to stifle laughter. The thought that she wasn't completely horrified by the turn of events calmed him somewhat.

His ploy was useless anyway. Fred waved his wand and suddenly, the number "2" on the poster got bigger.

"Unless you had sex more than twice?"

Harry froze. No matter how he answered, he'd be admitting something. Dam sat up.

"Tried to get me to believe he hadn't actually had sex," he told everyone again. "Said the poster must be broken." He barked a laugh. "As if one of your products wouldn't work!" He fell back onto the sofa. "Twice!" he said to himself. "And I missed it!"

Fred and George shook their heads at Harry in identical fashion.

"Such little faith," said Fred.

"Don't you know better by now, Harry?" asked George.

"Uhhh," said Harry. Again, there was absolutely nothing he could say. This time, it was Katie who stirred the pot.

"What do you mean that the poster switched from default mode?" she asked curiously.

Angelina joined in. "Tally mode, that means the poster kept track of how many times Harry had sex." She grinned at him. "Not bad, Potter. You've certainly grown up now, haven't you?"

Harry wanted to crawl under the table. He'd been the youngest member of the Hogwarts Quidditch team and his first year especially, it had been something of a running joke with the rest of the team. There was never any malice in it, but Harry's puberty had been a bigger topic of discussion – particularly among Angelina, Katie, and Alicia Spinnet – than Harry would have preferred. He shrugged. "It happens," he said carefully.

George nodded at both witches. "Yes, tally mode keeps track of how many times the individual has had sex," he said. "We market it to married couples who want to keep track of their bedroom antics."

"Bill and Fleur almost broke the damn thing," muttered Fred. "But at least we know how high the count can go."

"Please don't tell us," pleaded Ginny. She stood up, and Harry shot her a quick look. She shrugged, and Harry realized that even if she wasn't ready to reveal anything, at least she wasn't leaving him completely out to dry alone.

Fred laughed. "You don't want to know," he promised. "Too depressing for the rest of us."

"Or something to aspire to," said Angelina. She gave George a kiss.

"Do you all just want a couple of bedrooms?" asked Dam. He seemed supremely at ease with the sexual banter, even though none of it concerned him. "Or do you want to finish explaining about the poster first? I didn't think it was set to keep track of the number of times Potter had sex."

"It wasn't, not as a default setting," said George. He gave Harry a leering look that made him think he wasn't about to like what came next. "Default is locational mode, or we call it _in situs_. It keeps track of how many different witches you have sex with, but it has to take place in your flat." He shook his head in frustration. "We've still not been successful in combining the two."

"That means if you bring the same witch back to your flat a second time, it won't register in locational mode," explained Fred. "And in tally mode, we can't determine if Harry had sex with the same witch or different ones."

"Different ones?" asked Dam. The grin he'd been wearing every since the poster first spoke grew wider. "You mean Potter might have done it with two different witches tonight?"

"I didn't have sex with two different witches," Harry blurted out quickly. "Just . . . just one. Twice." He felt his face heating up. Ginny started fussing with the parchments on the table.

George leaned forward. "But not here in the flat, right?"

Dam laughed again. "I know that drink messed with my memory, but I'd hope I'd remember if Potter had had sex here last night."

"So where were you?" asked Katie.

"And how did you get Dam back here?" added Angelina.

"When did the witch leave?" added George.

"Or did you do the leaving?" put in Fred.

Harry brain was too sluggish to process any of the questions and come up with an answer that wouldn't throw both him and Ginny out to the pixies. His eyes found hers for the briefest second and he saw her give a tiny nod.

"You had sex at the pub, didn't you, Potter?" she asked. The casual use of his last name sounded odd to Harry and he could tell how hard she was trying to join in the teasing. She raised her eyebrows. "In one of the storage rooms? Or maybe the . . . loo?" She wasn't looking at him, but Harry heard an undercurrent of something in Ginny's voice. They had just been joking a few hours earlier about having sex in the pub's loo, and despite everything, Harry felt himself twitch. As he was only wearing pajamas, this was problematic. He took a deep breath and tried to look sheepish, and to avoid thinking more about the only witch he ever intended to have sex with at a pub.

"Umm," he said.

"The server!" Dam suddenly sat up straighter on the sofa. He pointed at Harry. "You had sex with that server, didn't you?" He chuckled. "I remember her. She gave us all the special drinks."

"She certainly was pushy about trying to sell them," said Ginny. "I think the entire team had some."

"Other than me," said Harry quickly. "Ron had one though."

George laughed. "Do I even want to know what he told you?"

Harry smirked. "I don't know. Do you want to hear how much he loves Hermione?"

Fred made a sound of approval. "We didn't use them in our testing," he said. "Wasn't sure if it would be worthwhile. But they can be part of the upgrades."

"I'm sure Ron will love that," muttered Ginny. She rolled up her parchment and stood up. "As exciting as dissecting Harry's sex life with an aggressive pub waitress might be for the rest of you, I have to go to work tomorrow." She yawned. "If I'm lucky, I might get three or four hours of sleep first. So I'm going to leave."

She walked over to Dam. "If you experience any residual affects of the potion, let me know. I'll be making a full report at work tomorrow."

Dam nodded. "Have I mentioned how much I like having an Auror in the building?" he asked.

Ginny mouth tightened in amusement. "You may have mentioned it once or twice," she said.

She looked around the rest of the room. "I trust I'll see all of you at dinner Sunday?" she asked. "If you have anything else to talk about with me I'm sure it can wait until then."

"Wait, Ginny, don't you want to hear if Harry really did sleep with that waitress?"

Ginny shrugged. "Not particularly," she said. "As long as he enjoyed himself." She turned to him suddenly, her back to the rest of the room. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Harry was caught off guard for a moment. Ginny licked her lips and Harry felt his groin twitch again. _Was she really teasing him in front of Fred and George? _The idea was more than hot. He swallowed.

"Uhh, yeah, I did," he said. "Have fun. I had fun with her."

"Good man," said Dam.

Ginny nodded briskly. "And do you plan to see her again?" she asked. She crossed her arms and the front of her robe gaped open a bit. Harry saw the soft skin of her breast and suddenly remembered Ginny wasn't wearing anything underneath. He swallowed again and wondered if it would give anything away if he was to suddenly plead a chill and wrap one of the Griffyndor blankets around himself. He took a deep breath.

"I . . . I'm not sure if I plan to see her again," he said finally. Harry couldn't figure out what the right answer was here. If he said yes, everyone would be watching his every move, suggesting another visit to the pub. If he said no, Ginny might misinterpret. A second later he shook his head. _Ginny won't misinterpret anything._

"Actually no, I'm not going to see her again," he said firmly. She's not really my type."

Ginny gave him a satisfied look. "Well okay," she said. "I guess it doesn't matter who she is then, does it?" She included the entire room in her question.

"I'm still interested," protested Dam.

"Me too," said Fred, while George nodded. "It could be useful for our research and development mate," he said.

Harry snorted. "Well then I'm certainly not going to tell you." He let himself look straight at Ginny. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he said. "Thank you for helping with . . . everything."

He was pretty sure Ginny masked a shiver with her shrug. "No problem Harry. I'm glad to help." She held out her hand to Dam. "Walk me to my flat?"

Dam chuckled. "Like you need protecting." Still he accepted her hand and stood up. "I feel like I could sleep for a week," he said. He looked at Fred and George. "Thanks for your help, best service I've ever had."

Fred and George gave identical bows. "That's what you get from Weasley's 24 Hour Service Service," said Fred grandly. He looked at his brother. "Although maybe we want to revisit the idea of letting customers leave messages instead?" With promises to Harry that 'this was not over' the twins ushered their girlfriends to the floo. Angelina gave an enormous yawn.

"See you in a couple of hours, Ginny. Let me know if you talk to Robards about all this."

Ginny nodded. "I will, thanks." She gave Harry one more glance before walking out of the flat with Dam.

When everyone was gone, Harry collapsed exhaustedly on the sofa, too tired to even walk down the hall to his bedroom. The events of the evening swirled in his head and he tried to focus his fuzzy brain on only the pleasant ones – the alley, Ginny teasing him under the table in the pub, the look on her face as he finally brought her to orgasm, the feel of her naked weight on him after they made love. But every time he'd start to relax into one of those memories he'd hear a cacophony of voices that sounded like Dam, the twins, Angelina and Katie, and that damn poster all clamoring to know whom he'd had sex with. It didn't help that the poster hadn't entirely faded back into the wall yet, although Fred and George had assured him it would – _for now_. Harry didn't trust what that meant, but the room was finally getting darker and he couldn't think about it just then. His last thought before falling asleep was of red – Ginny's hair falling onto his chest as she straddled him, morphing into a swirling fiery liquid being offered to him by a familiar voice he couldn't quite place.

**And Potter catches the Snitch – Twice!**

Harry jerked awake and almost fell off the sofa. The room was brighter now, early morning sunlight seeping through the windows. Ron and Hermione were standing in the middle of the room, staring back and forth between Harry and his photo.

"What the hell?" asked Ron incredulously.


	24. The Secret Witch

Harry stared blearily at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking back and forth between him and the poster. "You had sex last night?" asked Ron. He nudged Hermione. "I told you you were wrong about . . ." he broke off and looked at Harry. "Who'd you have sex with?"

"Twice, apparently," added Hermione. She gave Harry a calculating look. "Why are you on the sofa?"

Harry's head fell back on the cushions and he groaned. "Do you have any idea how little sleep I got?" he demanded. "Damn Fred and George."

"Who'd you have sex with?" asked Ron again. He walked over and jabbed at the poster with his wand, grinning when it made the announcement again. He turned back, face suddenly serious. "Was it because of that red drink? Cause I think there was something off about it."

"Yeah, Ginny thought so too," said Harry without thinking.

"Ginny?" said Ron. "When did you talk to Ginny? And how does she know about the drink?"

Harry cringed to himself. He couldn't remember the exact details of the story Ginny'd told last night or when he was supposed to have seen her. Had they acknowledged talking at the pub or had she told everyone she'd only spoken to Dam? Would Ron and Hermione think to trade stories with Fred and George? His brain was too blurry to focus. Fortunately, Hermione saved the moment.

"She went to the pub with us last night, Ron," said Hermione with exaggerated patience. "Don't you remember? And then she went outside to wait for Harry and the team while we . . . left." She turned rather pink.

"That's right," Harry jumped in. "You left before we arrived. I barely saw Ginny after that. Just a couple of minutes in the alley. She was out there because it was too hot in the pub, I guess. But we only talked for a few minutes." He forced himself to stop talking, but Ron and Hermione still seemed rather caught up in each other.

"Hermione says I seemed a bit more . . . last night. Not that she was complaining, but still." Ron and Hermione exchanged a private look and Harry stifled another groan. "I don't really remember though," Ron continued. "And you said Ginny thought there was something wrong with it too? Is that why you had sex?"

Harry knew that Ron's mention of both Ginny and the fact of Harry's having sex in the same breath was pure coincidence, still, it made him pause. He had to tread carefully lest he give something away; in his current state he felt likely to blurt out anything.

"I . . . no. That's not why," he said. He rubbed his hand over his face. "It just happened, okay? I don't really want to talk about it."

"No good there, mate," said Ron cheerfully. "This is big news, your having sex." He cocked his head at Harry. "Why'd you curse Fred and George though?"

This seemed a safe question. "They made the poster," said Harry. "Dam called them over when he saw . . . what it looks like now." He rubbed his face again. "So I assume by the time we're all at the Burrow for dinner on Sunday the entire family will know."

"Ickle Harry, no longer a virgin," said Ron with a grin. "So are you going to at least give me a hint?"

"No," said Harry shortly. "And I'd appreciate it if you keep it to yourself that it was my first time."

"And second," pointed out Hermione. She seemed to be caught between expressions of sympathy and laughter. Sympathy won. "Did you really not want to wait for someone, I don't know . . . special?" She gave him an overly understanding look.

Harry had no good answer to that. _I did wait for someone special._ "Don't you have to get to work or something?" he asked testily.

That was enough to distract Ron. "Oi, coffee!" he said, rushing off to the kitchen. "Can you send Ginny a Patronus, see if she's planning on walking with us?" he called over his shoulder. A minute later he walked back into the sitting room, the sound of coffee beans grinding in the background. "How did Ginny realize that drink was off?" he asked. "Did she see something at the pub?"

"I uhh, I woke up Ginny when I couldn't get Dam into his own flat," Harry said carefully. "She'd uh, come home early, I guess. And she umm, she put two and two together, based on how he was acting and what you had said to her earlier. When you were with Hermione." Harry made a quick decision. "She thought maybe the server at the pub was the same witch who brews potions for the Aurors – Sacha I think she said her name is? Said that she recognized her nail polish." Harry stopped talking then. Every mention of Ginny felt magnified to him, as if merely saying her name gave something away. He half expected Hermione to question why he knew so much about what Ginny thought, or ask him how much time they'd spent together in the pub. Any number of wrong answers would point immediately to the fact that the witch he'd had sex with was not a random fangirl.

Ron grimaced. "Sascha? Is she sure? She should probably tell someone at work then."

Harry nodded. "She is. Camilla, I think."

Ron gave a nod of understanding. "That's good. Camilla is . . ." A knock at the door interrupted him. "Tell Ginny the coffee's almost ready," he said, turning back to the kitchen. "We can leave in five."

Harry took a deep breath before flicking his wand to open the door.

**And Potter catches the Snitch! Twice!**

Ginny froze in the doorway. She looked as tired as Harry felt, and he could tell she was trying to figure out what she was supposed to know about the previous night and Harry's activities.

"Yeah, they've seen the poster," said Harry quickly. He didn't say anything else. Ginny gave a tiny nod.

"And what . . .?"

Ron reappeared, levitating four steaming cups before him. "Hey Gin, did you hear? Harry had sex last night with some random witch from the pub." He passed out the coffee. "You were there longer than we were, did you see who it was?"

Ginny breathed into her cup of coffee and didn't answer. Her eyes caught Harry's and he almost gave it up right there. How important was keeping the secret, really? Wouldn't pulling her into his bedroom to curl up for a nap be better?

"And what about the waitress?" Hermione asked suddenly. "You said Ginny recognized her." Hermione looked across the room. "Did she know?"

That seemed to pull Ginny out of her daze. She shook her head. "I uhh, I didn't see anything. At the pub," she said. "I mostly talked to Fred and George." She was speaking in the same careful sentences Harry was and he stifled a small grin.

"But did you know he had sex?" Ron persisted. "Twice?"

Ginny glanced quickly at Harry. "I umm, yeah. I found out last night," she said.

"When I woke her up to help with Dam," he said patiently. "And trust me, the twins have already interrogated me plenty. I promise you, it wasn't that interesting."

"Interesting enough for twice," smirked Ron. "Don't worry, I'll figure it out. I know you too well for you to keep the secret forever." He grinned. "Maybe I'll just question all the fan witches waiting outside."

"Don't you dare," said Ginny sharply.

Ron looked at her in surprise. "Why not? Aren't you the least bit curious who Harry slept with?" He waved at the poster. "And if the number's going to change again soon? Well?" he asked suddenly, looking at Harry. "Any plans for a repeat?"

Ginny looked suddenly horrified and Harry understood. If they had sex again, everyone would know. Maybe not that it was Ginny, but still.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," said Harry. He stood up and forced himself to stay casual. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of questions for me by dinner Sunday. Maybe by then I'll have thought up proper answers to throw you off the scent," he said lightly.

Mercifully, Ron let it go then. "Sunday then," he agreed. "I'll have plenty of backup then."

"Let's walk this morning, it's not too cold out," he said. He looked at Ginny. "You can tell me about the woman serving drinks and why you think it was that Sascha.

Ginny nodded quickly. "I'd like to talk it through with you before I speak to Camilla," she said. "Maybe Angelina too. There are probably a lot of details I missed." She spoke rapidly, and Harry'd bet anything Ginny would figure out a way to make her hunches about the potion last the entire walk to work. He yawned, feeling slightly guilty that he was actually able to go back to bed after they left. Hermione noticed.

"Still tired, Harry?" she asked with a smile. "You never told us why you were sleeping on the sofa."

"She still in your bed?" asked Ron with interest. He glanced down the hall.

"No," said Harry shortly. "She was never here. I was just too tired to move after Dam and the twins finally left last night."

"So, sex in the pub," laughed Ron. "This gets better and better." He opened the door to the flat. "Come on, Ginny. Tell me everything you remember about Harry last night. I'm sure between all of us we can figure out who he had sex with."

Harry would have laughed at the look of panic Ginny gave him as she left, if the situation had involved anything else at all; as it was, he could little more than give a weak wave as they left and hope Ginny succeeded in changing the subject back to something related to the Aurors.

The door closed and Harry flopped back on the sofa. He was about to grab one of the Gryffindor blankets and go back to sleep right there, but even with his eyes closed, he felt like he could still see the glowing outline of the poster. Muttering to himself he grabbed the coffee Ron had left him and shuffled down the hall. With any luck he'd be able to sleep without interruption until his brain was in better shape to come up with a story about what the hell he'd been thinking, having sex with a random witch in a pub.

The blankets on his bed were still in disarray from earlier, when he'd messed them up to make it look like he'd slept there. They were cold, and Harry shivered as he slipped underneath, wishing Ginny were climbing in next to him. He it looked like that wasn't going to be happening any time soon, as long as that damn poster was holding court over his flat. Sighing to himself, he rolled over and fell into a restless sleep, during which he dreamed he was being chased around a pitch by a series of fan-witches, each with an increasingly larger glowing number on her chest, while Ginny and her family watched from the sidelines, cheering him on.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny stumbled on the sidewalk outside the building, relieved that none of the usual audience seemed to be around to witness her clumsiness. Ron caught her neatly by the elbow before she tumbled, managing not to spill either of their coffees at the same time.

"Thanks," she mumbled tiredly.

"Sounds like it was a late night," said Hermione sympathetically. "How long were you up with Dam?"

Despite her exhaustion, Ginny was immediately on her guard. She couldn't exactly come out and say that a large part of the reason she was so tired was that she'd been quite busy losing her virginity – twice – last night. Well, the virginity-losing had only happened once, she supposed. Or, twice, if you counted both her and Harry. She giggled to herself. What if the poster was actually keeping track of that? A moment later she swallowed her mirth; lack of sleep was making her giddy.

"It wasn't just Dam," she said carefully. "Fred and George and Angelina and Katie were there too. It was a right party in Ron and Harry's flat at two in the morning." She yawned.

"So, Harry had sex twice, did he?" asked Ron. "I thought the poster was to keep track of the witches he brought back to the flat." His face lit up with glee. "Did he have sex with two different women?"

"I don't think so," said Ginny. "I think it keeps track of the number of times he had sex, not the number of witches." She spoke dispassionately, as if she was merely discussing the number of times Harry washed his socks or something. As if that glowing number on the poster had nothing at all to do with her. As if she wasn't already thinking about when she could be with Harry again. Not for the first time, Ginny wondered if she was now exempt from being counted, seeing that she'd already had sex with Harry. Was there a way to find out for sure, without actually trying it? Ginny resolved to bring an extra bottle of Firewhiskey to her parents' on Sunday; maybe she could get Fred and George talking about their invention without raising suspicion.

". . . idea who she is?" Ron was talking and Ginny realized she'd missed the first half of his sentence.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked.

"I asked if you have any idea who the witch is who Harry slept with," said Ron. "Who was he talking to at the pub?"

"I told you earlier, I didn't really see," said Ginny shortly. "I wasn't paying attention."

"But you were waiting for him in the alley, weren't you?" asked Hermione. "Him and the rest of the team, I mean. Didn't you walk in with them?"

"I did," said Ginny. "And I talked to Harry and Dam for a little while and then I went and talked to Fred and George. I didn't see Harry leave and I don't know who he was with." Ginny could hear the petulance in her voice but she didn't care. She was tired, she was trying to figure out why Sascha would have disguised herself as a server at the pub, and she was facing the possibility of not being able to be with Harry for the foreseeable future, unless they decided to confess their relationship to everyone. She kicked stone with her toe. "For all I know, he slept with that server," she said flippantly.

"Sascha?" asked Ron with a frown. "You think he slept with Sascha? Could she have slipped him a potion?" He stopped. "Maybe we should send him a Patronus and tell him not to do anything with her again."

Ginny sighed. "I was joking, Ron. I have no idea who Harry had sex with." She was pleased to hear how normal her voice sounded.

"But if you're right, what if it was that server?" said Hermione. "Harry could have gotten into trouble; there are so many people who'd love to hear his secrets." She shook her head. "It's not like him to be careless."

Anything Ginny could have said to ease Hermione's worry would have poked holes in her story that she'd barely seen Harry at the pub. She gave a little shrug. "I'm sure he can take care of himself," she said. She giggled to herself again. _Not that he has to, anymore._

Hermione sighed. "I know he can," she said. "It's just. . . he's also wants to fit in with his team, keep up that appearance too. What if they're pressuring him to do things he wouldn't normally want to, and it's making him more reckless?"

"Or maybe he was just randy and knew exactly what he was doing," said Ron lightly. "I checked the Prophet this morning; there wasn't anything there."

Ginny had checked the paper too, but she wasn't going to admit it. She gave Hermione a reassuring smile. "Harry still has too much Auror in him to let his guard down that much," she said. "I'm going to talk to Camilla Stalk this morning and tell her about the potion at the pub. If Sascha – or someone – is trying to get Harry to drink something he shouldn't, the Aurors should know." She left out the fact that the server had seemed as eager to have Ginny take the drink as Harry; saying anything that linked the two of them together felt risky.

Hermione nodded. "Are you going to mention your suspicion about who the server was?"

Ginny frowned. "I'm not sure." She looked at her brother. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure," Ron admitted. "I wouldn't tell Robards or Kane yet, but Camilla, maybe." He turned to Hermione then, and Ginny recognized by the look in his eye that if she didn't keep walking, she was going to be in much too close proximity to one of her brother's more thorough goodbyes to his girlfriend.

"I'm going in," she said, nodding across the street to the Ministry. "Try not to be late."

Ginny wasn't even sure Ron and Hermione heard her. She sighed. Public displays of affection had never really been her thing, but still, it must be nice to be able to have those moments without worrying about it ending up in the paper or something. For it had occurred to Ginny that maybe her family's (likely overly enthusiastic) reaction to her and Harry being together might be the least of their worries, if and when the news came out. She'd let Harry take the lead with how they reacted to the public; he'd be much better than she would be at making sure the information was properly managed.

She was still thinking about what the papers might say about her and Harry when she arrived at Auror headquarters.

"Ginny, oh good. I was hoping I'd see you this morning." Any thoughts Ginny had had about finding Camilla were unnecessary; the senior Auror was standing right inside the doorway. Her tone and proximity were a bit too casual to be accidental and Ginny was immediately on her guard.

"Good morning," she said. "Did you need something?"

Camilla gave a rather uncharacteristic giggle and Ginny's suspicions sharpened. "You live in the same building as the Arrows' Quidditch team, don't you?" she asked.

Ginny nodded. "I do," she said carefully. She knew this was not news to Camilla.

Camilla smiled. "I wanted to ask you about how to plan a special back-stadium tour for my nephew; he's an enormous fan. Do you think you could help arrange something like that?" The Auror spoke slowly.

Ginny nodded, equally slowly. "I think I can do that," she said, not bothering to mention that she knew the Aurors already had a relationship with the League; they provided security for many of the biggest matches.

"If you have a minute now, let's stop by my office, I'll give you the information," said Camilla.

Ginny followed agreeably, wondering what the other witch would have done if Ginny had walked in with Ron. She'd have to make sure she told him not to mention the pub or the potion to anyone yet; not until Ginny knew what was going on.

Camilla didn't close the door to her office, but Ginny didn't miss the slight flick of her wand that set the _Muffliato_ charm over the space. She turned to Ginny with a smile that quite belied the more serious tone in her voice. "Harry contacted me," she said.

HPHPHPHP

That evening, Ginny waited until she and Ron were well away from the Ministry before casting the _Muffliato_ herself. To his credit, Ron had clearly known Ginny had something to tell him, but had refrained from asking all day. It had helped that their lessons had been purely practical – physical activities designed to make sure their bodies were as sharp as their magic. They were both tired, but Ginny knew the information she had couldn't wait.

Camilla's revelation that Sascha was actually Sascha _Bellows_ shouldn't have surprised her as much as it had; she'd had her suspicions, after all. But having it confirmed that there was another sister – and one who'd managed to legitimize her actions more than the others – was disconcerting. Until now, Ginny had mostly laughed off the Bellows' antics as those of overly aggressive fans and pseudo journalists bent on selling gossip. Now that Sascha was working for the Aurors, she was less sure their motives were innocent.

"That was smart of Harry, to tell Camilla about the potion and the pub," said Ron when Ginny finished telling him what Camilla had said. "Why do you think he went to her and not Robards or Kane?"

"He knew that Robards and Kane worked more closely with Sascha," said Ginny. "Although Camilla told me that Robards had some hesitation about hiring her; unfortunately there wasn't anyone else available."

"Did Kane have the same reservations?" asked Ron.

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not sure," she said. "We didn't have much time to talk. Harry was mostly concerned about whether the potion could have longer lasting effects, especially in the amount that Dam drank. That's why he contacted the Aurors." Ginny suspected that Harry had other motivations too, but she didn't share those with her brother. It was only just now hitting her that being with Harry was going to be more complicated than she thought – more complicated than it should be, actually. It was completely worth it, of course, but she resolved to be as careful as possible about guarding Harry's privacy from now on.

Next to her, Ron yawned for at least the fifth time. "I'm so glad it's the weekend," he said. "I may not get out of bed again until we have to go to mum and dad's Sunday afternoon."

"Does Hermione know that?" Ginny teased. She paused. "Do you plan to have your lie-in at her flat?"

Ron shrugged. "Not sure," he said casually. "I think there's more food at mine so we may stay there."

Ginny forced a smile. "That . . . that sounds nice," she said. "Cozy."

Ron nodded happily. "It will be," he said. Then he smirked. "And maybe Harry'll be off somewhere else. _Busy himself._"

Irritation – likely fueled by exhaustion – flared up inside Ginny. "Didn't you listen to a word Harry said, Ron? It didn't mean anything, that witch. I'm sure Harry hopes that he can at least count on his best mate to drop it."

"And didn't you hear me, Ginny? I told Harry that wasn't likely, not if the rest are already getting in on the fun." He gave Ginny a thoughtful look. "My guess is that Harry's trying to downplay everything so he can keep her name private for a little longer, make sure he likes her as much as he thinks. And he'll probably try to sneak off and sleep with her at least a couple more times before we all get an introduction." He sounded so sure that Ginny stopped there in the street to stare at her brother.

"You think he actually has feelings for this witch?" she asked. "Some . . . some random girl from the pub?"

Ron nodded knowingly. "I'd guess it's not as random as Harry'd like us to think," he said. "I know you've become friends with him recently, but I've known him a long time. There is no way Harry would have sex – especially his first time – just to get it over with or on a whim. He cares about this witch - has a connection of some sort with her. I'm sure of it. Maybe it's someone who works for the Arrows, or maybe a player in another league, someone who loves Quidditch like he does, you know? If he slept with her, it must already be pretty serious."

Ginny had to turn away from Ron's musings to hide the sudden prickling in her eyes. Hearing Ron speak with such nonchalant certainty about how Harry felt made her feel like she'd just crossed some invisible barrier with him, one she hadn't even been aware of. She glanced at her brother. Unless he'd figured it out already, and was taking the mickey . . .

Ron dispelled that notion with his next comment. "Until last night, Hermione'd actually thought Harry might have fancied you!" He chuckled. "As if he's ever going to see you as anything but a sister." He elbowed Ginny. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you two are finally talking like normal adults, but really, Harry fancying you?" He shook his head. "Hermione's made it her mission to get Harry fixed up with someone. Maybe now she'll give it a rest."

"Why wouldn't Harry fancy me?" asked Ginny before she could stop herself. She shook her head. "I mean, are you saying that I'm completely unfanciable to anyone?" she asked casually.

Ron grimaced. "Remember when I caught you snogging Dean at school?" he asked. "I know I've grown a bit since then – thanks mostly to Hermione – but talking about blokes who fancy you, or who you might fancy is still difficult for me." He huffed. "It was bad enough when you snogged Dam – or whatever else the two of you did."

"Just snogged," said Ginny quickly.

"I really don't want to know," said Ron with a shudder. He grinned. "Harry's much more fun to wonder about anyway. Now that we know it's probably someone who's connected to Quidditch, you can think some more about who was at the pub last night. What about that publicist? The blonde one?"

Ron didn't stop listing witches connected to the Quidditch league who Harry might have slept with until their apartment building was in sight. Ginny was happy to see that the cold and rather threatening weather had thinned out the crush of fans considerably; only a few, bolstered no doubt by strong warming charms, sat bundled in chairs outside.

"No Ron, I don't think Harry's interested in the woman who makes popcorn for the matches," said Ginny patiently. "I'm sure that when and if he's ready to introduce you to her, he will." Inspiration struck. "But I bet the more you bother him about it, the less likely he'll be to tell you anything," she said. "Like you said, Harry's so private. The last thing he's going to want to do is bring a witch he really . . . cares about . . . to the Burrow if he thinks everyone is going to give her a hard time." Ginny hoped didn't notice her stumble over her words. It was one thing to have Ron say so, but Ginny really wanted to talk to Harry. She hadn't doubted – not even a little bit – his sincerity in saying he fancied her. But until Ron's comment, Ginny realized that a small part of her might have wondered if some of Harry's feelings still rested on his teenaged fantasies. That didn't make them any less legitimate, but it might have made them grow more quickly than they would have otherwise. Now, Ginny could almost imagine that silly mermaid waving goodbye and swimming away, leaving behind an adult Harry, smiling shyly at an adult Ginny before grabbing her hand and whisking her off to somewhere really private. A bedroom surrounded by wards even Bill couldn't break through, somewhere without posters or brothers or teammates, where they could . . .

"GINNY."

She broke out of her reverie to see Ron looking at her. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you want to just go in the front door," he said. "I don't see any familiar faces." He inclined his head at the fans.

Ginny's mind was still wrapped around other thoughts. "Do you think Harry's at your flat?" she asked.

Ron grinned. "Seeing my way finally, aren't you?" he asked. "I know I have most of a bottle of Firewhiskey; lets see if we can't get Harry pissed and get him to tell us the name of the witch." He knocked hips with Ginny. "He'll do it if you ask him, I bet. He's still trying to stay on your good side."

_He thinks all my sides are good. _Ginny thought wickedly to herself. She stifled another giggle and tried to focus on her brother. "What do you mean, my good side?" she asked.

Ron pushed open the door to the building. "I mean, he's still worried you're going to suddenly decide he's a prat again," he said. "You know, if he makes a mistake like forgetting the Chamber again or, I don't know, trying to sit in the spot on the sofa you've picked out."

Ginny kicked at him. "You're the prat, Ron. None of that's bothered me for ages."

He shrugged. "But Harry might not know that you won't suddenly change your mind again. He's still trying to be on his best behavior with you. When he starts stealing food off your plate and taking the mickey when you get caught snogging some bloke in a pub, then you'll know he's really comfortable with you."

Ginny had to fake a coughing fit at that point. Ron pounded her on the back. "Are you okay, Ginny?"

She nodded, eyes streaming. "Yes, thanks," she gasped. "Got a bit of dust in my throat."

"Drink some water when you get home," Ron advised.

"Thanks Ron," said Ginny sarcastically. "That hadn't occurred to me."

Ron shrugged. "Just trying to help," he said mildly. "Drink Firewhiskey if you want instead."

Ginny didn't really care what she was going to drink; she only cared _where, _but that gave her an idea. "Firewhiskey sounds good," she said. "Didn't you say you had some?"

"I do," Ron nodded. "Big plans tonight, then? Something for which you might need a little liquid courage?" He wrinkled his nose. "Cause, I think you're going to want to shower first."

"You should talk," said Ginny. "Harry's not going to want you in the flat." That wasn't true, of course. Ginny had yet to meet a male, related-to-her or not, who cared particularly about how often they showered, if they didn't have somewhere to be. Still, Ron's comment made her pause. She knew she and Harry couldn't have actual, penetrating sex, but that didn't mean there might not be an opportunity to do . . . _something_. Maybe a lot of somethings, even, things for which she'd rather not smell like she'd spent the day working up a sweat dodging hexes. "I'll just pop into my shower first," she said. "And then come over for a drink. Do you think Harry will be home?" She punched at the button on the lift and didn't look at her brother.

"I dunno," said Ron. "He's not on the road, so probably."

"Good," said Ginny. "I mean, that's good that I don't have to be the third wheel with you and Hermione."

"Unless he's trying to sneak off and see his secret witch," said Ron. He smirked. "Keep an eye on him, will you? Like if he makes some excuse to run out and, I don't know, pick up take away or grab equipment he 'accidentally' left at the stadium, try to think up a reason to go along with him." Ron smirked again. "I'll bet he'll just love that, but he won't want to offend you by refusing your offer."

Ginny wanted to kiss her brother. She wondered how she could subtly tell Harry that he needed to come up with a really contrived reason to leave; maybe suggest that Ron take a shower before Hermione arrived? But why would she be in Ron and Harry's flat? Could she time her Patronus to only reveal itself to Harry when Ron wasn't around? She'd only just begun to learn the higher-level forms of communication in training and wasn't sure she had to charm completely down yet.

In the end, it didn't matter. The lift doors opened to yet another impromptu game of hallway Quidditch, and for a moment, Ginny wondered why the team was all wearing their uniforms. But then Adam Ramsey turned around and Ginny was accosted with the image of Harry's team photo, winking from the Chaser's chest. The number "two" over his shoulder was flashing and popping like crazy, and as soon as Ramsey sent the practice Quaffle through one of the hoops at the end of the hall, the announcer's voice rang out.

**And Potter catches the Snitch – Twice! The question is, how many times for the witch?**

The hallway exploded in laughter. Ginny caught sight of Harry on his own toy broom, grinning sheepishly as he floated near Dam. "Good one, Ramsey!" Dam yelled. "We haven't heard that comment yet."

Wilder Rich grinned at Ginny and Ron. "The announcer has a bunch of different comments when we score a goal. He'd started to repeat himself, but that one's new."

Dam tossed the Quaffle to Ginny. "Come on, let's see what it says if you score – I'll even make it easy for you." He flew his toy broom to one side. "Potter, how about you try to block Weasley instead? Let's see if your Keeping skills are as good as your Seeking ones."

By the horrified look Harry gave her, Ginny knew he was also wondering what the announcer would say if it was Ginny doing the scoring. She quickly handed the ball to her brother.

"You've seen me play," she said. "Let Ron give it a go."

"Hah," said Harry. "This will be easy."

That was all it took, of course. Ron jumped on Wilder's broom and zoomed off down the hall. Harry watched him almost lazily from in front of the hoops, and Ginny had no doubt he'd be able to block Ron with his wand arm tied behind his back. But right before Ron threw the Quaffle, Harry caught Ginny's eye.

The shot flew right by Harry's head and through the center hoop. A beat late, Harry shook his head and cuffed Ron on the arm as he flew past, fist in the air as if taking a victory lap. Ginny braced herself.

**And Potter catches the Snitch – Twice! But will his roommate be so understanding the next time?**

Ron landed neatly on the ground. "Harry can have sex in our flat whenever he wants," he said with a grin. "I won't care, unless she's annoying." He looked at Harry. "She's not annoying, is she?"

Harry froze for a second. Then he slowly shook his head. "She's not annoying, Ron," he finally said. He looked about to say something else, but stopped.

Ron nodded, satisfied. "Well then, everyone's invited to our flat for Firewhiskey," he announced. "We're going to get Harry pissed enough to give up the witch's name!"

Harry gave Ginny the briefest glance. He shifted a bit on his broom and Ginny felt herself grow warm. "You're going to need a lot more alcohol than you have," said Harry with a grin. "I know how to hold my liquor."

"We'll see about that," said Ron. "Ginny and I have been learning all kinds of interrogation skills at work; you don't stand a chance." He looked at Ginny. "Isn't that right?"

"I'll be in my flat taking a shower, keep me out of it," Ginny said quickly. There was no way she could participate in any sort of drinking game with Harry right now. If she didn't give something away with her words, Ginny had no doubt that once she was two or three drinks in, she'd probably start pulling Harry's clothes off. Actually, it might not even take two or three drinks, she amended.

Ron shrugged. "Come over after then," he said. "And bring whatever bottles you have; I don't have enough to satisfy this lot."

Dam was rounding up the team, promising to excuse from their next run the first person to get Harry to admit whom he'd slept with. "That goes for you too, Weasley," called Dam as Ginny walked to her door. "Come on over as soon as you can. I bet if anyone can get Potter to give up his secrets, it's going to be you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Harry lightly. He smirked at Ginny. "I have years and years of experience ignoring what Ginny's saying."

Ginny shivered at the undercurrent of flirting in Harry's tone. _No one else knows anything. _She matched his casualness when she responded, rolling her eyes before opening her flat. "And you're assuming I even care who Harry was with," she said. "I'm just glad he finally got some." Ignoring the shouts of laughter, Ginny walked into her flat and shut the door.

She leaned her forehead against the wall. Fuck, she was aroused. And the best she could hope for now was a wank in the shower; there was no way she'd be able to get Harry alone long enough to give him any sort of message. And she was expected back in his and Ron's flat to drink and joke and act like everything was normal. Hermione'd be there by then too; and nothing got by her. Fuck.

A knock on her door startled her. Even as Ginny turned to open it, Ron's Patronus dropped down in front of her, speaking rapidly.

_Harry said he's off to buy more Firewhiskey because we don't have enough. Go intercept him – make up some reason you have to go too – hurry!_

The terrier hadn't even faded away before Ginny jerked open her door to find Harry standing there, his eyes wild with need. She pulled him inside.

"We don't have much time," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her and walking them both to the sofa. "I told Ron I . . ."

"I know," Ginny said. She pushed up Harry's shirt until he pulled it over his head. "He sent me a Patronus; seems to think you're sneaking off to have sex with your secret witch." Harry barked a laugh and lay down on top of her.

"So they're all sitting around my flat, waiting to see if my number changes again?" he asked. He wiggled against her until Ginny opened her legs; they both sighed in relief when he settled into the right spot.

"Well, they actually think I've just interrupted your plans for that," laughed Ginny. She pulled Harry's head towards her.

Several minutes later, she was no longer wearing a shirt or bra. Harry looked up from where he'd been sucking on one of her breasts and sighed. "If I don't come back shortly looking frustrated and carrying a bottle of Firewhiskey, they're going to start to get suspicious," he said.

"I know," said Ginny. "And I do want to shower."

Harry sat up slowly. "We have to figure out a way around that poster," he said.

"We have to figure out a way to get your entire team out of your flat," said Ginny with a laugh. She pushed up on her elbows so she could kiss Harry again and he shuffled back up her body to kiss her properly. A moment later, she pulled back. "There's no way you can go back to your flat in this state," she said firmly, reaching down between them. She waggled her eyebrows. "How quickly do you think I can get you to come if I use my mouth?"

Four minutes later, Ginny sat back on her heels and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. Harry had thrown his head back against the sofa as he came but his hands were still resting on his thighs where moments before he'd been playing with Ginny's hair as she worked between his legs. She ran her hand across his now soft penis and watched in satisfaction as he shuddered and opened his eyes.

"Better?" she asked.

Harry summoned a cup of water from the kitchen.

"Spectacular," he said in a lazy voice. He leaned forward and wiped his thumb across the corner of her lip. "You still have a bit of . . . you know, there," he said.

Ginny took the water. "Thanks," she said. "I think I pulled back a half-second too early."

Harry chuckled. "You won't hear me complaining," he said. "Cleanest orgasm I've ever had."

Ginny laughed too. "And now you have to go and I have to shower," she said, standing up and pulling him off the sofa.

Harry fumbled with his trousers. "And once again, I didn't get a chance to return the favor," he said mournfully. "You really need to let me start taking care of you first."

"I think if I'd sent you back to your flat with an erection at least Ron would have twigged our secret," said Ginny. "I can wait."

Harry wrapped his arms around her. "Hopefully not too long," he said.

Ginny stood behind the door as Harry left since she still wasn't wearing anything on her top. Even without a climax, she was feeling a lot more relaxed than she had earlier. She only hoped Harry remembered to go out and actually get a bottle of Firewhiskey before he went back to his flat, and that he didn't fall promptly asleep once he was there.

There were two different Patronuses waiting for Ginny when she got out of the shower. Harry's voice was slurred, as if he'd not only remembered to pick up a bottle of Firewhiskey before returning to his flat, but that he'd also sampled more than a little of it. Ginny could hear voices in the background; Harry hadn't sent the message in private.

_Gin . . . Ginny. Hi. They want you t' come to my flat soooon. The Arrows do, I mean. And Dam does. Wait, he's an Arrow too. Yeah. I think they want you to help them tease me or somethin'. So come to my flat after your shower. Oh, but put on clothes first. Cause seein' you naked would be . . . yeah. Just . . . come._

It was immediately obvious to Ginny that Harry was faking his inebriation; her shower hadn't been that long and there was no way Harry was going to let himself lose control. More importantly, she knew his sexual innuendos were no accident. She shivered.

Ron's message was to the point.

_Good job intercepting Harry. Now get back here as soon as you can to help question him. He's already drinking, so this should be easy._

Ginny sighed and pulled on some clothes. She hoped her transfiguration skills were up to turning her Firewhisky into water without anyone else figuring it out.

HPHPHPHP

Harry was glad Ron and Hermione were so wrapped up in each other they didn't notice him transfiguring his Firewhisky into something much less potent. They were probably the only two in the flat likely to recognize the wand motion, and the more drunk everyone else got, the less chance there was that anyone would notice he was still sober. Indeed, the report from the wireless of an incoming snowstorm and the prospect of an entire Saturday snowed in had eased everyone's inhibitions rather more than normal even for the Arrows, especially considering how much everyone had had to drink the night before.

Most of them probably didn't even remember drinking, though; the potion had made them all speak more openly, but it hadn't left anyone with a hangover. Harry was glad Camilla had been able to deduce the ingredients in the drink and assure Harry there wouldn't be any long lasting effects. She'd been less certain about Sascha Bellows' reasons for her disguise or whether she might have been targeting Harry or anyone else with the potion. He hadn't wanted to mention Ginny or reveal anything that might link the two of them in anyone's mind any more than they already were. He just couldn't shake the feeling that there had been more to Sascha's plan than merely getting Harry to admit embarrassing information she could give to Witch Weekly though.

There was a knock on the door and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Is that Ginny?" he asked casually.

"It has t' be," said Ron. "No one else could have gotten into the . . . the building without the pashword." He waved his empty glass. "Can I have more?" he asked.

Hermione waved her wand and summoned another bottle. "So many pashwords," she said with a giggle. "So many."

Harry was glad to see his friends relax, and not just because they were having a good time. Hopefully they'd be less likely to notice anything between him and Ginny this way. "I'll get it, then," he said. He waved his wand and the door swung open.

Ginny came in carrying another bottle. Her hair was still wet and hanging around her shoulders and Harry had a sudden, vivid image of that same hair draped in his lap while she sucked him off. He shifted in his seat and looked away as Ginny walked in.

"You'll have to teach me that one," called Dam from across the room. "Easier than gettin' up every time someone's at the door." The Keeper was already looking a little blurry around the edges himself, despite having a much greater tolerance than either Ron or Hermione. He'd commandeered his own bottle, Harry noticed.

Ginny floated her own bottle across the room and lined it up next to the ones Harry had brought. "Glad I had a bit myself before I got here," she said. "I need t' catch up." She plopped inartfully onto the sofa next to Harry and grabbed his cup. "Can I share yours?" she asked.

Harry knew Ginny was as sober as he was. "Absholllutely," he said carefully. "It's Firewhiskey."

Ginny took a big gulp. "Th' good shtuff," she said, giggling. Smoke came out of her ears and Harry made a low sound in his throat. "Good one," he muttered. He'd had to remind himself to recreate the whiskey's characteristic fire.

"Harry," said Ron from across the room. "Harry. I have a queshhion." Without waiting for an answer, he leaned forward. "Who'd you have sex with, are you gonna tell us? Cause I bet we all want to know."

There was a general, drunken murmur of agreement around the room. Next to him, Harry heard Ginny sigh. "Couldn't they all have passed out first?" she said softly.

"I got it," he said, under his breath. He looked across the room. "I'll tell you Ron, but only if you win the drinking game." He made a show of looking around the room. "Actually, whoever wins gets the answer. Only him though."

"Or her," said Hermione. "I wanna play too."

"Or her," Harry agreed. He raised his wand. "Let me fill everyone's glasses first."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny was impressed. Not only did Harry manage to get everyone drinking while they played some ridiculously convoluted game, but after Ron and Hermione stumbled off to his room for "alone time" he convinced the rest of his team to scatter to their own flats to 'finish the game now that they knew the rules.' "I'll announce the winner in the morning," he promised, pushing the Vincenti twins out the door last. "I need to tally up the points."

The door closed and Harry turned around to grin at Ginny. "You won, by the way," he said casually. "And the answer is, I had sex with you."

"Lucky me," she responded. "I can really hold my liquor, I guess."

"I wish I could hold you," said Harry plaintively. He looked down the hall. "They'll be there all night, won't they?"

"Sex and sleep," Ginny agreed. "Hermione's especially a lightweight and Ron's likely to pass out after he finishes." She looked at the poster on the wall. "But what about that?" she asked.

"Didn't Fred and George say it's keeping track of how many times I have sex? Everyone will just think I snuck off to see my secret witch when the number goes up," he said.

Ginny thought about that. "Do we have to go back to my flat?" she asked. "Or can we stay here?" She knew it was probably riskier to be with Harry right across the hallway from Ron, but Ginny really wanted to be with Harry in his own bed after all the time they'd spent in her own flat." She slipped her arms around Harry's waist. "I'd really like to make love with you in your room," she said. She felt Harry shiver.

"I think . . . I think that's okay," he said. "I mean, as long as no one sees you, right?"

"Right," Ginny nodded. She took another step forward and leaned her head on Harry's chest. "You can tell them you brought your witch back here," she said.

"Because I did," said Harry softly. He kissed her hair. "Let's set really good silencing charms though."

A/N: Huge thanks to Deadwoodpecker for her help, and more importantly, her _suggestions. _I'm really trying to get her to finish the next chapter of Peverell. Really, I am.


	25. Revelations

A/N: I really intended to finish and post this chapter over a week ago, before I went away for vacation, but unfortunately, I couldn't get it where I wanted in time. I'm sorry that what I intended to be a Christmas and Hanukkah present turned into a New Year's gift instead, but hey, at least it's one of the longest chapters I've written. Hopefully that's a good thing. :)

The snowstorm started in earnest sometime between the first and second time Harry and Ginny made love that night. The sound of the wind howling outside only magnified the quiet coziness Ginny felt laying against Harry under the blankets, their bare skin touching in dozens of places. Ginny snuck out to the loo after Harry's detection spell deemed it safe, and when she dove back under the covers, Harry yelped.

"Damn, your feet are cold," he said. He didn't move away though.

"My whole body's cold," Ginny chattered. "It's freezing out there."

"Well then, let's not go back out there any time soon," mumbled Harry. His hands moved against her hips under the blankets and he lowered his mouth to hers. He shifted to lie on top of her and Ginny could feel him pulsing against her thigh.

"Good idea," she mumbled back.

This time they were unhurried as they touched and explored and made each other moan. They playfully fought to be the first one to dive beneath the covers to find the other's most sensitive bits with soft kisses and tastes, and when Harry won he looked cheekily up at her from his place between her legs. "You let me win, didn't you?" he asked.

"Of course," said Ginny promptly. She opened her legs a bit wider. "It only took me four minutes last night to get you to climax; let's see how long it takes you."

"Witch," said Harry affectionately. "Maybe I want to take my time now that we're not in a rush." His tongue darted out for a tiny touch against her clit and Ginny moaned.

"Take all the time you need, Harry," she gasped.

"That's what I thought," he said in satisfaction before lowering his head again.

Harry remembered overhearing a discussion between Bill and the twins, not too long after Bill had begun dating Fleur. The rest of the family might not have been too enamored with the Veela at the time, but Bill had a rapturous audience in Fred and George, who wanted to hear anything and everything Bill agreed to tell them. When it came to performing oral sex, Bill had admitted to liking it so much that could bring him right up to the edge of climax before Fleur even touched him. At the time, Harry had been rather incredulous about that.

Now, Ginny was still panting from her orgasm when Harry slid up her body and inside of her, and it only took him a few frantic strokes in and out to get there himself. He collapsed on top of Ginny moments later, enjoying the feeling of softening while still inside.

"Fleur says Bill really gets excited about that too," murmured Ginny. She reached up to kiss his neck. "I thought maybe it was just a Veela thing."

Harry finally pulled out and rolled to one side to reach his wand for a cleaning spell. "Definitely not just a Veela thing," he said. "Another minute and I might not have made it inside first."

Ginny giggled sleepily. "We'll have to try for that sometime," she said.

HPHPHP

They must have fallen asleep afterwards, for when Harry next awoke, anemic sunlight was creeping through a crack in the curtains. The wind was as wild as ever outside and he was glad to imagine spending the day cosseted under blankets and drinking hot chocolate with Ginny. He slipped carefully out of bed and pulled on his pajamas before heading for the loo, thinking vaguely about how they'd sneak Ginny back to her flat before she could casually come over for a visit later. It was only when he'd finished and was on his way back to bed that a thumping sound from the sitting room startled him out of his stupor. The door to Ron's bedroom was cracked open – Harry was pretty sure it had been fully shut when he went to the loo – and he was relieved to see that his own door was firmly closed. Deciding it was unnecessary to disillusion himself, he crept slowly down the hall.

The sitting room was dim and empty but Harry could see Ron fumbling in the kitchen. He was opening one cabinet after another, pulling items out and then muttering _fuck_ under his breath as he apparently didn't find what he wanted. One of the cabinet doors shut with a bang and Ron winced and put his hand to his head. Harry turned silently around to head back to his room – the need for a plan to get Ginny out of the flat suddenly more urgent – when Ron looked up and saw him.

"Do we have any hangover potion?" he croaked weakly.

Harry walked cautiously into the room. "I'm not sure," he said, thinking quickly. "We might be out. Maybe you should, uhh, Floo to the Apothecary for some?"

Ron winced again. "No way I'd make it," he said heavily. He gave up his search and walked into the sitting room to flop on the sofa. "Fuck, I drank too much. Hermione too. I promised her coffee with a cure before she got out of bed but I can't find the potion."

"We uhh, we all drank too much," said Harry carefully.

Ron glanced at him briefly. "You don't look to be in as bad a shape," he said. "Do you have potion in your room?"

"I don't," said Harry quickly. "I guess I didn't drink as much as you did." He sat down on the sofa next to Ron. The hangover could be useful, he thought; hopefully he could convince Ron to just go back to bed; maybe Harry would even offer to Floo for some potion himself shortly. And he'd sneak Ginny out in the meantime. "I think the Firewhiskey I drank was the good stuff," he said conversationally. "It's less likely to cause headaches later. I'm guessing you and Hermione might have been drinking the cheaper whiskey." He pretended to think. "You said she was feeling bad too? Ron?" He turned on the sofa, half hoping that Ron had actually dozed off right there.

Instead, he was staring across the dim light of the room. "Does it look . . ." he began. He looked at Harry. "Did you . . . ?" He stopped again and rubbed at his eyes. "I can't see it clearly," he mumbled. He waved his wand and flicked open the curtains to allow in some of the wintry sunlight.

"Can't see what?" Harry started to ask. Then he saw too. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Ron was still peering at the poster. "Why is there a number 1 now?" he asked. He shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm not still drunk, am I?" He looked at Harry. "How could you erase one of the times you had sex? Did you not . . . finish or something?" Ron's cheeks turned faintly pink.

"Umm," said Harry. "Maybe the storm's interfering with it." It was a lame excuse, but hopefully Ron was hungover enough to buy it. But he was gingerly shaking his head.

"Fred and George's stuff is too good, and the number's red now, not green," he said. He looked right at Harry. "Something changed." Before Harry could respond, Ron shot a spell at the poster.

**And Potter Catches the Snitch – He brought home One Witch!**

Ron winced at the noise, but that didn't stop him from punching Harry in the arm too. "You brought her here?" He stretched up to look down the hall. "Is she still in your room?" He suddenly sounded a lot more alert.

"No," said Harry shortly. "She's umm, she left. A while ago. She wasn't here for that long."

Ron gave him a curious grin. "How did you get Bill to keep his mouth shut?" he asked. "Cause, I have some dirt on him I've been saving up; this might be worth using it."

"Bill?" asked Harry. "What's Bill got to do with anything?"

Now Ron looked confused. "To give you a password for her so she could get through the building's wards," he said. "He's the only one authorized to do it, and he has to know her name." He cocked his head at Harry. "How did you get her into the building without a password for her?"

"Umm," said Harry again. _Shit, think!_ "I uhh, I couldn't," he said. "That's why she wasn't here for long."

"But long enough to have sex?" asked Ron. "Did you have to do it in the front lobby?"

Fortunately, Harry was saved from answering by a groan from the hallway. Hermione stumbled into the room looking even worse than Ron. She sat gingerly in a chair. "If I don't get hangover potion and coffee soon, I'm going to vomit," she announced grimly.

"I don't have any, sorry," said Harry.

Hermione looked at Ron. "I thought you were getting some?"

"Harry brought his witch back here last night," Ron said in response. "He managed to get her inside without a password, too."

Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes. "How'd you do that, Harry?" she asked tiredly.

"Sex in the lobby, apparently," said Ron. He shook his head in admiration. "Damn, you must have been really randy to attempt that. Why didn't you just go to her flat?"

"Umm," said Harry again. "We were going to, but umm, we didn't," he finished weakly.

"I'm surprised the poster knew you had sex here, since you didn't actually bring her into our flat," said Ron. He smirked. "Think we can figure out how many times?" He shot another spell at the poster

"Ron," Harry began. As he watched, the red "1" morphed into a glowing green "4".

**And Potter Catches the Snitch – Four Times Now!**

"Four?" said Ron incredulously. "You did it twice in the lobby? Weren't you afraid someone would walk in?" He shook his head. "Or did you go down to the laundry room or something?" He looked at his girlfriend. "What do you think? The poster's range is farther than we thought."

"Ron," said Hermione quietly. "Please. I can't think about anything until you get me some hangover potion." Harry had never heard Hermione sound so uninterested in figuring out a magical problem. He jumped on that fact.

"Why don't you uhh, take Hermione back to bed then?" he said quickly. "You look like you could use a bit more of a lie-in yourself. I'll Floo to the Apothecary and get the potion." He stood up.

Ron was rubbing his head. "You mean, you'll probably stop off to see your secret witch and not be back for hours," he said. "Besides, I think Ginny has some." Before Harry could say a word, Ron raised his wand and conjured his Patronus with one of the advanced communications spells used by the Aurors. "Go to Ginny," he told it. "Bark at the door until she wakes up – it may take a few minutes. Ask her to bring over some hangover potion." He flicked his wand to send the terrier away.

Harry knew immediately what was going to happen but he couldn't make his brain work fast enough to stop it. Instead of bounding through the wall, Ron's Patronus scampered down the hallway and stopped outside Harry's closed door.

"What the hell?" asked Ron, as the terrier began to bark and whine. He looked at Harry and Hermione. "Did I do the spell wrong? It's supposed to go to Ginny's door."

"It sounded okay to me," mumbled Hermione, just as Harry said "Yeah, I think you did it wrong."

"Well, which is it?" asked Ron. He stood up and shot another spell down the hall. The terrier's barks grew louder and it began to paw at the door.

"Why does it think Ginny's in there?" he asked.

Harry could only stare as the door to his bedroom slowly opened.

"Because I am," said Ginny calmly, walking into the room. She was wearing bits and pieces of Harry's pajamas and her hair was pulled back in a hasty ponytail. "And if you want me to get you any potion, I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut about it."

Ron opened his mouth and then closed it again, still looking perplexed. "Ginny?" he finally asked. "What were you doing in Harry's room?"

Harry glanced sharply at his best friend, but apparently, the question was legitimate. Hermione's eyes were closed and she was breathing slowly through her mouth; Harry wasn't even sure she was aware what was going on.

Ginny sat down on the sofa. "I stayed over last night," she said.

"Did your heat break or something?" asked Ron. "Or were you too drunk to even get back to your own flat?" He snorted and then winced. "That was some game you had us play, Harry. I bet we don't even see Dam and the others until this afternoon." He gave Harry a pointed look. "But it was just Firewhiskey, right? Nothing else?"

"Nothing else," Harry assured him. He glanced at Ginny and she gave him a tiny shrug back. _Hangovers do weird things,_ she seemed to say. Indeed, Harry had seen Hermione injured in any number of ways and yet she'd always been able to keep her wits about her and her magic intact. He couldn't remember ever seeing her in such a state that she couldn't even participate in a conversation – the time she was petrified their second year excepted, of course. And even then, she'd provided a clue for them to follow.

"Pipes," he said out loud, remembering. Ron looked curiously at him.

"Ginny's pipes are broken? I thought the whole building is linked together." His suddenly eyes lit up and he turned to his sister. "But this is great, Ginny. If you were here, did you get a chance to find out who Harry's secret witch is? I know he didn't bring her up here, but you must have known he was sneaking out. Did you follow him? What did you see?"

"Umm," said Ginny. Her brain seemed to be residing in the same post-coital place as Harry's. "I, umm . . ."

"Is that the real reason you didn't bring her up here, mate? You didn't want her to meet Ginny, did you? That would have been awkward, to say the least." Ron ran his hand through his hair and looked at his sister. "But you'll behave, won't you? When we meet Harry's witch? You won't act like you did when we all met Fleur, right? Because she turned out more than okay, once we got to know her."

"Umm," said Ginny again. She looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her brother's cluelessness. "Yeah. I'll be nice."

"You better," said Ron. He rubbed his head again. "Maybe coffee by itself will help," he mumbled. He walked into the kitchen and began pulling out the coffee making things, talking to them from the other room. "Why don't you just tell everyone tomorrow night at the Burrow Harry?" Ron called. "Fred and George are going to obviously have something planned; you could ruin their fun by giving up her name right away."

Hermione opened her eyes. Despite her obvious misery, Harry could tell she'd figured out what was going one. "Ron," she said quietly.

He didn't hear her. "What do you say, Harry? " he called over the sound of grinding beans. "Are you going to tell everyone? You're not embarrassed about it are you?" The grinding stopped and Hermione's shoulders relaxed a bit.

"I thought I'd taught him better by now," she said weakly.

Ginny stifled a snort. "Yeah Harry, you should definitely tell everyone at dinner tomorrow night. All at once," she said. "And Ron," she called in the direction of the kitchen, "I promise that I'll be very, very good about Harry and his witch."

"Glad to hear it," Ron called back. "Because I'm betting she has no idea how much we all know about her and Harry's . . . private activities."

While Ginny tried not to snort again, Harry looked apologetically at Hermione.

"It's not something that's ever crossed his mind, you understand," he said. "Fred and George didn't have a clue either." He looked at Ginny. "If you have hangover potion in your flat, this would be a good time to get it, I think. We need Hermione at full strength before Ron figures out the truth." Harry knew that trying to hide anymore was futile, if Hermione knew.

"What truth?" asked Ron. Four coffees floated in front of him. "I'm sorry I don't have any potion for it," he said to Hermione. He looked at Harry and then at Ginny. "You already figured out who it is, didn't you?' he asked his sister. "What did Harry promise to give you to keep your mouth shut?"

Ginny jumped up. "I actually left the remedy in your bathroom cabinet," she said, waving her wand. The tiny bottle came zooming down the hall and landed in Hermione's lap. She picked it up with a groan of relief and poured a healthy shot into her coffee.

"Ron, you're not supposed to be this thick anymore," she said. She took a big gulp of the steaming liquid and some of the greenish tinge cleared from her face. "I'll blame the large amount of Firewhiskey you drank and the fact that it's not something that even I considered happening between them, at least not so quickly."

"I thought I wasn't thick at all anymore," said Ron. He took the potion from Hermione and drank a few swallows straight from the bottle. He shook his head from side to side and his face cleared. "Much better," he said. He looked back at Hermione. "You've figured out who she is too? And you didn't tell me?"

Hermione sat up straight. "It's not really my news to tell," she said. She looked at Harry and then Ginny.

Instead of responding, Harry caught Ginny's eye. She smiled at him and he couldn't help but smile back. He took a few steps towards her, forgetting for a moment that Ron and Hermione were in the room.

Those few seconds were enough for the cobwebs of drink and oblivion to clear from Ron's brain. A sharp intake of breath brought Harry back to the present, and he looked up to see Ron looking rapidly back and forth between him and Ginny, awareness dawning on his face.

"Your heat isn't broken?" he asked weakly. He ran his hand though his hair.

"Nope," said Ginny cheerfully. "And Harry doesn't need any sort of special password to get his secret witch into the building."

"It wasn't the publicist," added Harry.

"But," Ron said. He stopped and shook his head. "I thought she's like a sister to you," he said finally. He looked at Ginny. "And him a brother. You thought he was a prat." He sank down on the sofa. "I don't . . ." his voice trailed off.

"I did think he was a prat, yes," said Ginny gently. "Until I learned better and stopped being a prat myself."

"And I never, ever thought of her as my sister," said Harry forcefully. "Ever."

"So you didn't have sex at the pub?" Ron asked. A minute later he looked horrified. "Or . . . did you?"

Harry wasn't sure exactly how much Ron wanted to know, or how much Ginny wanted to tell him. He looked at her.

"Not at the pub," she said carefully. "We were in my flat. The first time."

"And the second," supplied Hermione. Now that her hangover was gone, she had the analytical look in her eye Harry knew well. "Isn't that right?"

Harry nodded. "The second too," he admitted.

Ron still looked rather gobsmacked. "And the others . . .?"

"Were here, last night," said Ginny briskly. "The poster got that right too."

"I was here last night," said Ron plaintively. He turned to Hermione. "Did you hear anything?"

"I was pretty much passed out," Hermione admitted, at the same time Harry said "I know how to set a silencing charm, you know."

Ron seemed to be putting more and more together now. "So last night, when I sent Ginny that Patronus to follow Harry, the two of you . . . actually, I don't want to know the specifics."

"Thank Merlin," said Ginny, earning her a small smile from her brother.

Hermione got up from her chair and went to sit next to Ron. He laid his head on her shoulder for a long minute. "You were right," he said finally. "Harry did fancy Ginny."

"And still does," said Harry.

Hermione turned her head and kissed Ron's hair. "But I didn't realize it was mutual," she said. Ron sighed and looked at Harry again. He seemed more comfortable talking to his friend than his sister.

"How . . . how long?"

He started fancying me his Fifth Year!" Ginny said with a grin. "Guess all those silencing charms weren't to keep you from hearing his nightmares after all."

"All his . . ." began Ron. He looked over at Harry. "You _did_ set a lot of silencing charms that year. And I thought they were for . . .no. Please don't tell me." He put his hands over his ears.

"It became mutual a little over a month ago," said Harry carefully, as Hermione peeled Ron's hands away from his ears. He seemed to be taking the revelation calmly, but Harry wasn't convinced the news had completely sunk in yet. It wasn't that he expected Ron to explode the way he had their Sixth Year over Ginny and Dean, but right now he was looking at Harry and Ginny as if he didn't quite recognize who they were, as if the concept of the two of them as a couple had made them incomprehensible as his best friend and his sister.

Hermione, on the other hand, was smiling shrewdly at them. She was dying to ask a million questions, Harry knew, trying to figure out how she'd missed all the signs that Harry and Ginny had gotten together. He was almost as impressed with her restraint as he was with Ron's calm.

"But . . . how did it . . . .happen?" Ron asked. "I mean, I was glad the two of you got over your constant irritation with each other, but just because you're friends now doesn't mean you had to . . . jump into bed together." He mumbled the last bit, clearly not intending to have said so much.

"You did," pointed out Ginny. Harry stifled a snort of laughter and even Hermione giggled. Ron looked sheepish.

"Yeah, well, maybe," conceded Ron. "Although Hermione and I were friends for ages first."

"And we still irritate each other sometimes," said Hermione.

"I think Ginny and I are done being irritated with each other," said Harry. He finally decided it was safe to walk across the room and wrap his arms around her. She put her head on his chest and sighed contentedly. Harry watched Ron carefully.

He stared at the two of them for a second before giving a little shrug that seemed to say, _well, if you must,_ before turning to Hermione. "This is going to take some getting used to," he said.

"You're reacting remarkably well," said Ginny. She slipped her hand underneath the back of Harry's pajama top and tickled up his back.

"Or a lot of getting used to," said Ron heavily. He inclined his head at them. "Do you do . . . that sort of thing a lot?"

"I'm not sure," said Harry. "You and Hermione are the first to know about us." He thought of something. "And actually, we'd rather not tell anyone else just yet. Especially my teammates. It doesn't need to be in the papers any time soon."

Ron nodded knowingly. "Maybe we can keep the Arrows from finding out for a while, but good luck with our family," he said. "I wouldn't eat or drink anything that's been near Fred or George tomorrow night."

Harry groaned. "They aren't going to go easy on me, are they?"

"Not at all," said Ron. "I wouldn't be surprised if even my mum got involved in trying to figure out who you're with; she's been in a state about your apparent loneliness for months now."

Harry buried his face in Ginny's hair. "Then I'm going to eat and drink as much as possible tomorrow night," he said. "Because once she knows why I'm not even a little bit lonely, she may never cook for me again."

Ron barked a laugh. "Are you mental? You think my mum's going to be upset that you're together with Ginny?"

Harry looked at his best mate. To be honest, he hadn't really considered how the Weasleys would react to his and Ginny's relationship. He'd never once doubted their love for him, and Molly and Arthur had always treated him nearly as one of their own. If they'd been perhaps a bit more lenient about his participation in the family's hijinx, Harry was certain it was because Molly considered him punished enough by his aunt and uncle.

But being in a relationship – _having sex with_ – their daughter was quite different from helping the twins swipe Percy's quills so they could charm them to write only in childish scrawl, or even from involving her and Ron in far too many near-death experiences fighting Voldemort.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "You think they'll be okay with it?"

Ron sighed. "I guess I'm not the only thick one," he said rather smugly. He looked at his sister. "Remember what I told you the other day? About Harry and his secret witch?"

Harry felt Ginny shiver. "Yeah," she said quietly. She pulled out of Harry's arms and led him over to the chair Hermione had vacated. "You didn't know it was me then, though." She sat down, shifting over so Harry could snuggle next to her. He pulled her legs over his lap.

Ron shrugged. "Doesn't matter that I didn't know it was you; still the same thing. More even."

Harry turned to Ginny. "What?"

Ginny gave him a shy smile. "Ron said you wouldn't sleep with a random witch – especially the first time – just to get it over with." She rubbed her thumb over his hand. "He knew you cared about . . . her . . . me . . . more than you were admitting." She shivered again.

Harry took her chin and tilted her head toward him. "Ron was right," he said, kissing her. "But I think you know that. It was never casual or random with you." Ginny shifted in his lap and Harry found himself forgetting about Ron and Hermione again.

Ron cleared his throat.

Harry pulled his face away from Ginny's. "Sorry mate," he said. He searched for their previous topic of conversation. "Umm, we were talking about . . .?"

"Why my mum is going to be thrilled that you and Ginny are dating," said Ron. "I've been around the two of you for less than an hour and it's already blatantly obvious you aren't just messing around." He smirked. "Honestly, Harry, you'd be better off making mum angry. She's not going to give you a moment of peace."

"But she's not like that with your brothers," protested Harry. "And about you and Hermione. Why is this different?"

Hermione leaned forward. "I think you know why it's different," she said. "It's Ginny – the only daughter. And . . . it's you."

Ron was nodding in agreement. "No one else they'd rather see Ginny with, mate. And considering how many times you almost got her killed at Hogwarts, that's really saying something."

They all laughed then, and Harry felt warm inside, that these were the people he knew so well that they could joke about their past like that. He remembered something. "You asked me last week if my secret witch was annoying," he said to Ron. "I can promise you, now, that's she's definitely not." They all laughed again and Harry felt Ginny shift against him in a way that was much more purposeful. "Now?" he murmured in her ear. "The poster'll change."

Ginny shrugged. "That's Ron's problem," she whispered back.

Harry chuckled. "He's being more than decent, do you really want to push him?"

"Actually, I'm not sure he's going to be paying attention," said Ginny. She nodded her head to where Ron and Hermione were currently snogging on the sofa.

Harry grimaced. "I'm suddenly less inclined to care about Ron's feelings," he said dryly. He wiggled Ginny off his lap and stood up. "My room again?" he asked.

A weak knock at the door interrupted them. It was quiet enough that Ron and Hermione didn't even look up from the sofa, and Harry threw an exasperated glance in their direction as he walked by. "Oi, can you two stop for a minute? Someone's here."

Ron pulled his lips away from Hermione's neck. "In this blizzard?"

"Well, I'd imagine it's someone who lives in the building," said Hermione reasonably. She straightened her pajama top. "Which means Harry and Ginny have about three seconds to come up with an explanation for why she's here at 7 a.m. wearing Harry's pajamas and the poster says Harry's had sex two more times since yesterday." She spoke in that practical tone that Harry knew to appreciate now that it wasn't setting study schedules. He looked wildly at Ginny.

"Ummm," said Ginny. The knock came again.

"Potter?" said a shaky voice. "Ron?"

"Fuck, it's Dam," said Harry. "He's going to have a field day with this."

Hermione stood up. "Not sounding the way he does now," she said briskly. She looked around the room. "Ginny, you passed out on the sofa last night and umm . . ." she waved her wand in a complicated pattern and Ginny's mismatched pajamas sprouted flowers and frills."

"Ugh," said Ginny looking down. "What the hell am I wearing?"

"Something that won't make it look like you and Harry just shagged," said Ron. "Nice Transfiguration, Hermione."

Hermione shrugged modestly. "And Harry snuck his witch back here for a middle-of-the night romp," she said. "That's all we need to say, as long as Harry takes his hand off Ginny's waist." She rolled her eyes at them while Harry shuffled sheepishly away and then flicked her wand at the door.

"Rather rude of me to bring another witch back here with my girlfriend passed out on the couch," said Harry conversationally, right before the door swung open. Ginny gave him a pleased smile. He grinned back at her.

"Harry!" hissed Hermione. He quickly straightened his features and looked away from Ginny to the figure leaning against the doorframe.

Dam looked terrible. He was pale and the bit of his eyes that could be seen as he squinted in the light of the flat were bloodshot. From his stance, Harry got the impression that if not for the wall holding him up, he might instead be curled up on the floor. "I'm out of potion," he mumbled. He looked blearily around the room. "D'you have any?"

Hermione jumped up. "I'm not sure, Dam. We might have all finished it ourselves. We were all pretty drunk last night, and suffering for it this morning, weren't we?"

Dam didn't acknowledge everyone's murmurs of agreement that _yes, they had all been just blindingly _drunk. He stumbled over the place on the sofa Hermione had just vacated and collapsed heavily. "I need potion," he said again, closing his eyes.

Ginny picked up the bottle Ron had been drinking from and peered into it. "There's really not any left," she said apologetically. "We umm, we all needed it pretty badly this morning ourselves. I don't remember much from last night. I umm, I passed out on the sofa here, apparently. I didn't hear anything else until . . . Ron woke me up about a half hour ago to give me potion. And Hermione. So I'm feeling better now." Ginny seemed to realize she was talking too much and stuttered into silence.

Harry hid a grin to hear Ginny tripping over her explanation; her years of experience with Fred and George meant that she was usually better at things like this.

Dam didn't seem to notice. He cracked an eye open. "Weasley?" he asked in Ginny's direction. For once there wasn't even a hint of flirtation in his voice. "Can you make me some? I don't know how; never really learned potions."

Apparently, a bad hangover was as effective as loosening Dam's tongue as the red drink at the pub had been. Ginny gave him a sympathetic grimace. "I don't think I have the ingredients here, I mean, in my flat," she said. She looked quickly at the poster and then back at the Keeper. "Maybe you can sleep it off?"

Dam groaned again. "I'm to have an interview with what'sername," he slurred. "For Quidditch Today. She sent a message this morning that we can talk by Floo because of the storm. Woke me up." He leaned back and closed his eyes again.

Harry glanced sharply at Ginny. "Do you remember who the interview is with?" he asked. Quidditch Today was usually on the more respectable magazines, but normally, a request for an interview would be handled by the team's PR department. "Or did you talk to Violet?" he asked, naming the blonde publicist Ron had suspected Harry of shagging.

"She said she talked to Violet," said Dam. "Showed me a message too. Writin' a story about what we all do on our days off and how it helps us play better. Or somethin' like that."

Across the room, Ginny pursed her lips and Harry knew her thoughts had gone the same place as his. Ron was frowning and seemed to be having a silent conversation with Hermione. Ginny walked over and touched Dam on the shoulder. "I'll Floo the Apothecary and get you some hangover potion," she said gently. "And Ron and Harry will walk you back to your flat to wait. Hermione too, if she wants." She glanced quickly at the poster. It wasn't talking right now, but the big green number 4 was still popping in and out of existence over Harry's left shoulder and Harry wasn't sure when it would start announcing again. Hungover Dam might not be looking at the bright thing, but Harry had no illusions that no matter how bad he was feeling, Dam needed to get out of the flat before he learned something he'd be very interested in once he felt better.

HPHPHPHP

Now that Dam was out of Harry and Ron's flat, Ginny decided that it would be a good idea to shower and dress before returning with the hangover potion. She felt only a tiny bit guilty making the man wait for relief; solidifying their story about what had happened the night before was more important. With any luck, he didn't remember that she'd told him she'd slept on Harry and Ron's sofa and hadn't even noticed what she'd been wearing earlier. She could say she'd gone to Ron for coffee; that would explain her early presence in their flat. Indeed, Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't mention her changed appearance when she arrived clutching the striped Apothecary bag. They were huddled to one side of the fancy leather sofa in Dam's flat and had obviously been having a quiet conversation; Ginny could still hear the buzz of the Muffliato spell around them.

Hermione waved her wand to cancel it. "So the Apothecary was open then?" she asked brightly, nodding at the bag.

Ginny nodded. "More or less; it's a good thing the owner lives in rooms behind the shop though. Like it's a good thing that I live right down the hall and can stop by early in the morning for coffee without going out in the blizzard." She spoke the last bit slowly and deliberately, looking each of the three in the eye.

Hermione nodded slowly. "That might work better," she said. "If he doesn't remember. . ."

"He won't, I don't think," said Harry. "I've seen Dam pissed plenty of times, and the morning after too. He's worse this morning." He gave rueful smile. "I may have encouraged them to drink more than usual last night. As part of the game I invented. Didn't want to take any chances."

"Well, it looks like it worked," muttered Ginny. She opened the bottle and nudged Dam. He had fallen asleep on the couch, but woke and took the potion gratefully, downing half of it in one gulp. His face cleared almost immediately; Ginny had gotten the most powerful antidote she could.

"I love you, Weasley," said Dam fervently. The change in his demeanor was stark. He waggled his eyebrows at her. "First Potter and now me; it's getting so none of the team should even think about drinking unless you're around." He looked at Harry. "Isn't that right? Maybe we should offer Weasley a position with the team. It'd be fun to have her on road trips." He stretched and then smirked. "Although, maybe that would interfere with the fun you've been having with this secret witch of yours. D'you think she'd mind sharing you with Ginny here?"

There was a muffled snort across the room. Ginny glared over Dam's head at her brother, who looked close to exploding with laughter. She turned back and gave Dam a smile.

"You'd have me give up being an Auror just so I can childmind you when you get pissed? Wouldn't it be easier to make sure you never run out of potion, or even better, that you just drink less from now on?" She wasn't sure how long she could sit through a discussion of Harry's secret witch and whether he'd like to share without going the same way as Ron.

Dam shrugged. "Easier maybe, but not as enjoyable. Now that Harry's finally getting some. . ." He squinted suddenly, as if trying to remember something. "Wait . . . " he said slowly. "The poster in your flat. Did I see it say . . . four?"

Ginny fought the urge to look at Harry. "Did it?" she said brightly. "Well, good for Harry. I uhh, I wouldn't know, seeing as I was . . ."

"Passed out on the sofa," said Ron quickly. He gave Ginny a look she took to mean they'd better stick to their original story; Dam apparently had been more aware than they'd thought.

"Yeah, I didn't hear anything until Ron came into the room to make coffee," she said quickly. She gave Harry a teasing look. "So, when did you sneak her out?"

"Or is she still there?" said Dam. He jumped up from the sofa. "As your captain, I should really meet her, make sure she's not too distracting to your dedication to the Arrows." He headed for the door. "And I should probably take another look at the poster again." He looked back at Harry. "If it said you'd had sex twice yesterday, and now it's four, that means you weren't nearly as drunk as the rest of us last night, were you, Potter?" Dam's voice was gleeful. "Way to make up for a lot of lost time. Now I really need to meet her." He turned back toward the door.

"She's not there," said Harry quickly. "She left pretty quickly. After." Ginny saw him blush.

"Wanted to miss the storm, I'd imagine," said Ron.

"That's right, I heard even the Floo Network might be impacted, if people forgot to put a blizzard repelling charm on their chimneys," added Hermione. "You can get halfway to your destination and suddenly find yourself stuck in a snowdrift right inside a fireplace."

Ginny knew this was absolutely not true; the Floo Network was carefully regulated so that all fireplaces were kept magically clear at all times. But Hermione spoke with so much authority, Ginny wasn't surprised to see even Ron half-believed her.

"Apparating too," he said. "Maybe her closest Apprarition point is blocks from her house."

"True," said Dam. He cocked his head at Harry. "Where does she live, anyway? Somewhere close by?"

"Not too far," choked out Harry. "She umm, I mean, I Apparated her home. Because it was late."

Dam nodded seriously. "Glad to hear it, mate. We need to keep the Arrows' reputation on the up and up, especially off the pitch." He turned towards his fireplace. "Which reminds me," he said. "That reporter should be calling soon. What was her name again? I can't remember, but she assured me she has a lot of experience writing about Quidditch." He looked at Harry. "Want to join in the interview? I bet it would make the front page, both of us together."

Ginny could tell she wasn't the only one to be uncomfortably reminded of Professor Lockhart, even though Dam's suggestion was much more innocent. Harry shook his head. "If it's all the same to you, I'll just listen in," he said.

"Maybe we should be out of sight of the Floo," said Hermione. She had a shrewd look on her face. "We don't want to distract the reporter. Some of them can be rather particular about their interviews." She smiled sweetly at Dam. "If you want us to stay, you probably shouldn't mention we're here; we wouldn't want to interfere."

Dam shrugged affably. "Fine by me," he said. "Hope it won't take too long; now that I'm feeling better, I'd like to have a workout before getting ready for my special supper invitation." He grinned at Ron and Ginny. "Did you hear? Your mum invited me tonight. Said I looked like I could use a home cooked meal." He chuckled. "I hope she cooked enough."

They were all saved from answering when the Floo flared green. Ginny pulled Harry out of the line of sight of the fireplace and Hermione quickly cast a Muffliato around the four of them.

"Did he say who the reporter was?" asked Ron.

Harry shook his head just as a woman's voice rang out. "Harlow Hayes here! I see you got my message, Mr. Clarke. I hope this isn't too early."

While Dam shook the reporter's hand through the Floo and promised her he was ready to talk, Ginny cursed softly.

"Harlow Hayes?" she said. A pit of dread landed in her stomach. "Fuck."

"Is that the reporter you hexed at the press conference?" asked Hermione. "I'd forgotten about her. Most of the other articles have been written anonymously."

"I know," Ginny said. "But I've had my suspicions."

"Should we break it up before it starts?" Harry asked quietly. He spoke to all three of them, but Ron and Hermione seemed to understand that Ginny was to make the decision. She thought for a moment.

"Let's see where it goes first," she said. "Maybe it's completely innocent and we'll end up giving the reporter more of a story than she needs."

Everyone nodded, although Ginny could tell by the looks on their faces that they didn't believe any more than she did that Harlow Hayes had entirely proper intentions. Her voice was sticky sweet and sounded so fake Ginny thought she might be using a spell to disguise it. Even as she and Dam went through the pleasantries of her thanking him for making time to speak and a comment about the weather, Ginny's senses were on high alert. Next to her, Harry was barely breathing, he was listening so carefully.

"I should send a message to Violet," he muttered. "She's not going to be happy about this."

Before Ginny could reply, Harlow's questioning took a turn.

"So, what kind of rules do the Arrows have about the kinds of activities players can engage in during their off time?" she asked. "I'd imagine you wouldn't want anyone doing anything that could cause injuries, right?"

"That's right," answered Dam. "Nothing too risky. No dragon taming or mountain climbing." He chuckled. "But we like to have some fun. Boring players make for boring Quidditch." He laughed again and Ginny suspected he was remembering one of the many impromptu games the team liked to play in the hallway. A natural follow-up question would be to ask Dam to elaborate on the types of fun the Arrows liked to have.

"I imagine that fun includes private time with a witch or two?" Harlow asked instead. "Or possibly a wizard, I suppose." Next to Ginny, Harry stiffened. She looked at him. "Should we stop this?"

"Mmhmm," Dam answered before Harry could respond. His voice took on a note of pride. "Not a virgin in the bunch, I'm happy to say. Why, just the other day, we learned that . . ."

Harry rushed out of the protection of the Muffliato spell and slipped quickly over to sit next to Dam in front of his fireplace.

"Harlow Hayes? Nice to meet you. Harry Potter. I've seen you at press . . ." his voice died away. "What the hell?"

Without stopping to think, Ginny rushed after Harry; Hermione and Ron were right behind her. "What's going on?" she asked. Her wand was already out.

"Well, isn't this a party?" Hayes asked, looking rapidly from Harry to Ginny to Ron and lastly to Hermione. Except the face staring out at them from the Floo wasn't the mousy brown-haired reporter Ginny remembered hexing.

"Which one are you?" she asked the familiar looking blonde. "Zoya, right? You've written for the Prophet."

Zoya Bellows – for that's whose head was floating among the flames - shrugged, non-plussed. "So you discovered one of my aliases, so what?" she said, slipping back into her Russian-accented English. "That doesn't answer my question about why you're all spying on Mr. Clarke in his own flat."

"We aren't . . . You didn't clear this interview with our publicist, did you?" said Harry defensively. "I wanted to make sure the interview was on the up and up." He scowled. "Obviously it wasn't."

"You didn't talk to Violet?" Dam asked. He grimaced. "I'm never drinking again," he said under his breath. He looked into the Floo. "Potter's right," he said. "Can't talk to the press without clearing it with PR first." He shrugged, looking genuinely apologetic. "I'm really sorry."

Zoya smiled, and Ginny knew the woman wasn't at all upset about the turn the morning had taken. "No worries," she said cheerfully. "I'll be sure to contact the team next time."

"And you won't write anything . . ." Harry began.

It was obvious Zoya was pretending not to hear him. "Until later then," she trilled, withdrawing her head from the flames and disappearing.

Harry flopped onto Dam's sofa. "Shit," he said.

Ginny started to sit next to him and then stopped, realizing where she was.

"What's the problem?" asked Dam. "I barely had a chance to say anything."

"Except that everyone on the team is having sex," said Harry. "Now the entire Quidditch-loving world is going to want to know who I'm sleeping with."

Dam snorted. "Including me," he said. He shrugged, unconcerned. "It'll be great publicity for the team; everyone's going to want to know who Potter's secret shag is." He chuckled. "I don't suppose you want to let me in on the secret?"

"Absolutely not," said Harry promptly. "You talk too much when you've been drinking." He grinned at Dam, but Ginny could tell how hard Harry was trying to keep things casual. "I'm probably not going to see her again anyway," he added.

Dam nodded. "She wasn't that good in bed," he said knowingly.

Behind her, Ginny heard Ron groan and Hermione hush him.

"No, it's not that," said Harry quickly. "She's actually, I mean . . . that's not it." Ginny saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "That's not it at all," he said. He sighed. "It's just complicated."

Dam snorted. "The good ones always are," he said. He smirked. "No matter. I'll find out tomorrow, I suspect. At dinner at the Weasley's. You'll be there, right Potter?"

Harry glanced at Ginny again and she stifled the urge to just walk over and put her arms around him. It had to be his decision when to tell his teammates though. Harry nodded. "I always am," he said finally.

Dam nodded in satisfaction. "Fred and George haven't let me down yet," he said. He threw a pillow at Ginny. "And you'll help too, won't you? We'll pry the name of Harry's secret witch out of him somehow."

Ginny swallowed. "Umm, maybe Harry needs someone on his side," she said carefully. "Since I know none of my brothers are going to leave the poor bloke alone." She smiled fully at Harry. "I'll watch your back, if you want."

Ron groaned again just as Harry smiled at her. "I'd like that, Ginny. Thanks."

"I bet you will," muttered Ron.

"But now I need to get home and umm, work on something for the Aurors," she said quickly. She looked pointedly at her brother. "Right, Ron? Don't you have that report to finish too?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, that report," he said. He grabbed Hermione's hand. "I'll warm up the coffee; we can drink it in bed." He pulled her to the door and Ginny suspected they'd be busy for a while. That suited her purposes just fine. She gave Harry a grimace. "For your sake, let's hope they remember the silencing charms this time," she said.

Harry stood up. "If not, I'm hiding out in your flat."

Ginny sighed. _Put on a show for Dam. _"Fine," she said. "But then you're helping me clean."

Harry sighed back but she could see him hiding a grin. "I'm pants at those spells, but I'll do my best," he said cheekily.

Dam sat back on his sofa and yawned. "And I think I need a nap," he said. "That hangover remedy made me sleepy." He yawned again. "We'll Apparate to dinner tomorrow together, right?"

Ginny nodded. "We'll stop by to pick you up," she promised. Ron and Hermione were gone and she hoped she didn't look too eager herself as she said goodbye to Dam and left his flat. Harry joined her a moment later. As soon as the door was closed her grabbed her around the waist and kissed her firmly.

"That was torture," he said.

"It's going to be worse tomorrow at the Burrow," she pointed out. She walked quickly down the hall. "Which is why we have to not think about it for the next several hours at least."

Harry beat her to the door of her flat. "Or until five minutes before we're expected there," he said. "Right now, I want to see how badly I can scandalize that damn poster."

Ginny opened her door. "Please do," she said, pulling him inside.


	26. Floos and Floozies

A/N: I really thought I only needed a couple hundred words to get Harry and Ginny and the rest to the Burrow for dinner. Obviously, I was mistaken. I want that scene to stand on its own, so here's the bridge I wrote to get them there.

_Secret to the Arrows' Success Revealed_

_By Harlow Hayes, Quidditch Reporter _

_It's no secret that the Arsenal Arrows are one of the hottest teams in Great Britain right now. Although currently second in the League behind the Holyhead Harpies, this reporter has it on good authority that the standings may soon change in the Arrows' favor – thanks in no small part to the team's new training regimen. _

"_Sex, and a lot of it," revealed Captain and Keeper Damacles Clarke in an exclusive interview. "The more orgasms we have, the better we play, and now that there's not a single virgin among our starters, we're going to be unstoppable."_

_Although he remained coy about specifics, it's likely that Clarke was referring to Seeker Harry Potter, whose sexual status has remained something of a mystery until now. Most recently linked in public with socialite Katerina Bellows, she and Potter enjoyed a brief but intense romance earlier in the season. _

"_Potter is sexy as hell and wonderful at using his hands – and other parts," confided Bellows. "But alas, our schedules were too much at odds to make a relationship work for the long term. I'm delighted to hear that he's finally having sex; we would have crossed that bridge ourselves, had we been able to stay together. The connection we had with each other was truly remarkable – I doubt he's found anything close to as serious with whatever witch he's sleeping with. But that's Harry for you, he'll do anything to help his team win." Indeed, Potter himself showed up at the conclusion of the interview and did not deny it._

_So, there you have it, the secret to the Arrows' success. Given the size of the team's fan base, this reporter wouldn't be surprised to see quite a few eligible witches (and wizards) willing to volunteer their time and services in pursuit of more victories. While Clarke implied that it was the quantity of partners that made a difference, one can't help but wonder if quality is even more important. If, as Miss Bellows believes (and she would know better than most) that Harry Potter jumped into bed with a mediocre witch merely to help his team win, wouldn't it follow that he'd play even better matched with someone his sexual equal? Keep an eye out, Quidditch fans; if you can figure out who it is that Potter's shagging, it will be that much easier to find him someone better. The team will thank you._

"It's worse than I thought," Harry groaned, flopping back on Ginny's sofa. Ron and Hermione were there too, having been woken early by the arrival of the Prophet, and Zoya Bellows' article. Ginny was frowning over her copy of the paper, one hand grasping his in what Harry assumed was a show of support. On the other hand, she might have been holding on so tightly to prevent herself from Apparating straight to the Prophet's offices and hexing "Harlow Hayes" a second time.

"This is just . . . it's just . . ." she sputtered. "The nerve of that woman, insinuating that . . . I just . . . arghhh." Ginny jumped up. "What time is it? I need a drink." She stomped off to the kitchen.

"I guess it was too much to hope that she'd leave it alone," said Ron. He was carefully shredding the photo that accompanied the article – the old one of a completely wasted Harry kissing Katerina Bellows on his hazing night. "But when there wasn't anything in the Evening Prophet last night, I thought maybe she didn't have enough from Dam to go on."

"Obviously that didn't matter," said Harry. Ginny came back with a bottle of Firewhiskey, which she plunked on the table but didn't open. "Probably not a good idea to get pissed right now," she said. She leaned into him. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

He put an arm around her and kissed her hair. "For what? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I told you not to stop the interview before it even started, even though we all suspected there was something wrong," she said. She cuddled into Harry and took his hand again. "We should have blocked the Floo and prevented it from happening until you'd cleared it with Violet."

"But then we wouldn't have known that Harlow Hayes is actually Zoya Bellows," said Hermione. "At least there's that."

"And if she hadn't been able to contact Dam at all, she probably would have come up with some angle implicating Harry anyway," said Ron. "Something even worse."

"I knew Hayes was trouble, but Dam really didn't get a chance to say that much," said Ginny. "And yet, she fabricated that ridiculous story." She turned to Harry. "But it still had an element of truth in it, didn't it? I mean, she didn't actually come right out and say you'd been a virgin, but it's not difficult to read between the lines, if that's what people want to think. And she made it sound like you agreed!"

Harry shrugged. "At least she was honest about the fact that I didn't sleep with Katerina," he said. "I guess she knew I'd be able to refute that." He looked carefully at Ginny, trying to gauge whether her anger had any deeper source. Zoya had basically told her readers that Harry didn't care about the witch he was with, and suggested that fans try to figure out who she was. He knew Ginny wouldn't believe for a second that she wasn't his "sexual equal" or whatever nonsense Zoya had written, but he wasn't sure that Ginny fully understood what it meant to be the object of such public scrutiny. They hadn't really been friends during his Hogwarts years when Rita Skeeter's quill had made his life miserable. Even the attention she'd gotten more recently in the press had been mostly focused on magic and her work with the Aurors. If anyone got wind of the fact that Ginny was at all connected to Harry emotionally – or even just physically – she wasn't going to have a moment's peace. He touched her arm.

"I'm sorry this is going to make your life more difficult," he said. "I'll do whatever I can to make sure no one finds out until you're ready to tell people."

"Until _we're _ready to tell people," Ginny said firmly. She shrugged. "The legions of random fans don't really bother me, but I'll need to figure out what to tell Robards and Kane and everyone at work." She gave him a fierce look. "Because I won't let them use . . . _us_ as a reason to force you back to the Aurors or whatever it is they want you do to with me."

"Yeah, cause only Harry gets to figure out what he wants to do with you," joked Ron.

It broke the tension. They all laughed, and Harry gave Ron a grateful look.

"Just promise me you won't make a comment like that at dinner tonight," he said with a shudder. "Fan-witches and reporters and the Aurors are one thing. Your family is another entirely. Bill probably knows a half-dozen curses that could make my bits shrivel up, right there in the middle of supper."

"He wouldn't dare," said Ginny darkly. "Or I might have to adjust my Bat Bogey hex into something a bit more personal – and painful." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "What might I call it, the Bat Climax hex?"

"BatSemen," said Hermione with a snort, while Ron and Harry winced.

"I still think a better course of action will be to just keep it a secret," said Harry. "Especially since it sounds like Dam is going to be there too." He ran his hand through his hair. "Maybe we shouldn't even take a chance that we're seen leaving here or arriving there together," he said to Ginny. "You can Floo there or whatever, and I'll take Dam side-along a few minutes later."

Ginny nodded. "But that's not for hours. Right now, I think Harry needs to sneak off to see his secret witch," she said pointedly.

Ron jumped up immediately, pulling Hermione with him. "Can we go to your flat?" he begged. "I'm may be accepting of all this, but I don't really need to see how quickly the poster changes again."

Harry bit back a joking retort that it would probably take longer than Ron was used to; thanks to the poster Harry and Ginny's sex life was already on much more display than Harry liked or Ron would want to know. Besides, he needed Ron fully on his side.

"I'm going to have to see Dam so the two of us can talk to Violet soon anyway," said Harry. "She'll need to issue some sort of statement about he actually meant." He grimaced. "And what I supposedly meant, agreeing with him."

"So I guess you can go back to your own flat, Ron," said Ginny. She sighed. "The poster's safe for a while."

"I didn't say I had to see Dam immediately," Harry pointed out. He stepped closer to Ginny. "I think we at least have time for a few activities the poster won't be able to detect," he said low in her ear. "I could really use a shower."

Ginny brightened immediately. "I have plenty of hot water," she said.

HPHPHPHP

An hour later, Harry was glad to have taken the time to be with Ginny before going to Dam's flat to talk to Violet. At least his last memory would be a good one, he considered. Because he was pretty sure the Arrows' publicist was going to kill him and Dam both.

She'd come right through the Floo, not content to merely talk through the flames, and now was pacing around Dam's flat like an angry, caged tiger.

"What the hell, Dam? When that reporter contacted you, why didn't you message me right away? You know all requests for interviews, and I mean ALL, have to go through me."

While Dam sputtered and mumbled about hangovers and early owls and _she said she'd talked to you already, _Harry let his mind wander back to Ginny's flat. They'd left a trail of clothes from her door and Harry had purposely pretended to have trouble with his trousers so that he had an excuse to stop and watch as Ginny walked, naked to the loo.

_She turned and looked back to where he was standing, trousers bunched around his ankles and penis sticking straight out at her through the flap in his pants. "Problem there, Potter?" she asked with a smirk._

"_Not at all," he said, giving up the pretense and pushing off the rest of his clothing. "I'm just enjoying the view."_

_Ginny gave him a heated look. "How do you feel about the view of me on my knees with you in my mouth?" she asked wickedly. _

_Harry closed the distance between them immediately. "Yes please," he said thickly, pulling her into the loo._

". . . you thinking, not contacting me yourself? Harry?" Violet snapped her fingers in front of his face and the image of Ginny, clutching his bum as she sucked him off under the warm water, evaporated. He shook his head to clear it.

"Sorry?" he said.

"I asked why you didn't contact me as soon as you realized the reporter wasn't on the up and up?" asked Violet. She gave him a shrewd look. "You _did _suspect she was lying before you interrupted the interview, didn't you?" Violet wasn't stupid; she knew that while it was entirely likely that Dam hadn't realized anything was off with Harlow Hayes, there was little chance Harry would have missed it.

"I knew," he admitted. "But there were two Auror trainees with me, and Gin . . . both of them thought we should wait to see if we could get any information about the reporter first. And we did," he finished a bit defensively. "We found out that Harlow Hayes is actually an alias for Zoya Bellows. She's the sister of that woman who broke into the building disguised as a laundry service worker."

Violet frowned. "Really? Are you sure?" She looked through some notes she was holding. "Hayes can be a bit . . . aggressive in her questioning, but a lot of the reporters are." She frowned. "Do you think she was trying to break into the building? The fireplaces are warded to keep people from coming all the way through unless Bill Weasley has personally approved them, but I don't like the fact that she was able to Floo-call so easily." She looked over at the Keeper again. "No more talking to reporters without me, no matter what they say, okay?"

"She seemed nice," Dam protested. "It gets boring talking about Chaser formations and how we maintain our brooms and all the other things most reporters ask. She told me her article was going to have a bit more color and personality."

"No shit," said Violet bluntly. "I'm sure her readers were delighted to learn that the entire team wants to have more sex. We're going to have to triple our security force." She looked at Harry. "Was any of what she wrote true? Do you have a . . . friend I should know about? Is there a risk she could go to the press herself?"

"No," said Harry quickly. "I mean, yes, there is someone. And she's more than a friend. She's . . . but no." He shook his head. "You don't need to know her; no one needs to know her. She'll keep quiet, I'm positive." He flushed, thinking suddenly of how _not quiet_ Ginny had been only an hour before.

_Harry was still breathing hard from his climax when he conjured a bench for Ginny's shower and seated her there, gently spreading her legs open before dropping down in front of her. "My turn," he said, leaning in for his first taste. Ginny mewled with pleasure, her soft moans first muffled by the sounds of water on tile, but they grew louder the more Harry delved into her. When he flattened his tongue against her clit, she screamed and bucked against him so hard she nearly fell off the edge of the bench and when she clamped her thighs around his head and told him not to move, Harry held his breath and until he nearly passed out. He didn't still his tongue though, and Ginny's intense "fuck, Fuck, RIGHT THERE" echoed throughout the loo. _

"Hmmm," Violet said, bringing Harry back to the present. "Are you sure? There's going to be a lot of attention on trying to figure out who she is. If I knew her identity, I could prepare a statement ahead of time."

Dam barked a laugh. "Good luck with that," he said. "Potter's been totally shut up about who she is. I'd think she didn't exist, except for the fact that the poster keeps telling us how many times he's shagged her." He smirked. "But don't worry, I'm invited to dinner at the Weasley's tonight. Ron and Ginny can't wait to get the rest of the family involved in figuring out who this witch is. I should have a name for you tomorrow."

"Not if I can help it," said Harry. There wasn't much he could say without risking giving away that fact that both Ginny and Ron were as interested in keeping Harry's secret as Harry was. Throw Hermione into the mix and Harry was rather confident he and Ginny would be able to get through the evening unscathed.

"Forget that for a minute," said Violet. "What do you mean, there's a poster that tells you how many times Harry's had sex?" She looked at Harry. "Is this something you knew about?"

As Dam explained, Violet rubbed her eyes and Harry got the impression she was thinking she needed to ask for a raise. She finally sighed. "It's in your flat?" she asked Harry. "And there's no way to take it down?"

"Not until I've been with the team a year, no," he said.

"And you expect that the . . . number is going to continue to increase?" she asked delicately.

"Umm," said Harry. "Yeah, I expect it will." He swallowed, hoping neither Violet or Dam could see the sudden twitch in his trousers as his mind jumped to just how high that number might get before he and Ginny could finally take the poster off the wall. Honestly, if it was something they could keep to themselves, maybe in the closet of her flat or something, it wouldn't be so bad, he considered. What kind of things might the poster say, as the number of times they made love grew and grew? He shook his head and focused on Violet again.

". . . keep everyone out of your flat then," she was saying. "And don't let anyone know about it." Violet directed that remark to Dam. "We have enough trouble keeping the fans out of the building already."

"Yes ma'am," said Dam contritely. Violet sighed again.

"I'm going to my office to try to come up with some sort of press release to explain all this," she said. "I'll get in touch with you if anything changes." She looked pointedly at Harry. He nodded.

"We'll be at the Burrow," he said. "I'm taking Dam side-along later. Just me. Ron and Ginny are going separately with Hermione." Harry didn't know why he felt the need to mention that detail, but he was grasping for anything he could that would make tonight feel like just another friendly family meal at the Burrow. It wouldn't be, he suspected, but he was pretty sure he'd throw himself under the Knight Bus before he'd let Ginny's family – and Dam – know what was going on between the two of them.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that.


	27. Dinner With Ladder

A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever written a chapter; I hope it doesn't seem too rushed. As some of you know, I love writing Weasley banter, although this was a little more challenging for me. I tried not to make the scene feel too "trope-y"; let me know what you think. Special thanks to deadwoodpecker for her cheerleading as I wrote this.

Harry was unaccountably nervous on the way to the Burrow that night. He had no reason to be, he kept telling himself, despite the huge secret he and Ginny were keeping. It wasn't like the Weasleys would kick him out if they found out that he and Ginny were together – Ron had pressed that point home enough. Even if the family learned that the relationship was already physical, Harry knew he'd be in for more teasing than animus. There'd probably be a heart to heart talk with Ginny's dad too. He'd already endured the sex talk Arthur gave all his sons – and Harry – before their third year at Hogwarts, and sat through a much more thorough – and illuminating – discussion with Sirius and Remus right around the time he'd first started having feelings for Ginny. He still used some of the cleaning charms they'd taught him, actually. He could survive another talk about sex with Ginny's dad – and even her mum – if necessary. That wasn't it. Harry frowned, trying to think.

Dam, chattering next to him as they walked to the building's private Apparation point, was not helping his concentration. Not surprisingly, he was talking about exactly what Fred and George might do to get Harry to reveal the identity of his secret witch. It seemed that Dam and the twins had actually been in communication with each other in advance of this evening. Dam had even told them that the poster was now at a number 4 instead of 2, a fact that impressed the twins to no end, he assured Harry.

"I'll bet you give up her name before pudding," he said confidently, waiting for Harry to hold out his arm so they could Apparate. "Ginny's really going to be working on you too; I could tell she's pleased for you, finally having sex." He snorted. "Maybe my next job is to find her someone to shag too. I know Ramsey thinks she's cute."

Harry took a deep breath, reminding himself that it would be particularly bad form to let Dam get splinched on the way to dinner. He turned on the spot, and by the time they arrived in on the road outside the Burrow, his nerves had calmed somewhat. With any luck, Dam's attempts at getting Harry to admit something would be obvious enough that they'd interfere with whatever the twins had planned. Harry didn't really want to think about Bill, who'd be harder to get anything past. He could only hope Fleur would be in a particularly distracting mood.

Despite warning himself to greet everyone else in the family first, Harry couldn't help but catch Ginny's eye the moment he and Dam entered the Burrow's kitchen. It was as crowded and loud and raucous as always and yet for a long moment, Harry had the odd, disconnected feeling that he and Ginny were the only two people in the room. The last time he'd seen the gold jumper she was wearing, it had been bunched up on her floor, right after he'd pulled it over her head. And he'd slipped his hands under the lace of her bra and rubbed his thumb across her . . .

"Firewhiskey?" Ron was suddenly beside him, shoving a glass into his hand and giving a second one to Dam. "Watch yourself," he warned under his breath. "You and Ginny are looking at each other like you want to start shagging right at the table or something."

Nerves returning as the image of him fondling Ginny evaporated, Harry took a big gulp of Firewhiskey. "Thanks," he muttered back, watching as Dam made the rounds of the room, greeting the various Weasleys as if he'd known them all for years. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough for Ginny to need a shot too," answered Ron. "Mum accosted her immediately, wanting to know if she knew who your new witch was and if she was a 'nice girl'. Ginny almost lost it right there."

Harry groaned. "So they've all read the article then?"

Ron snorted. "Read it, quoted it, picked apart any hidden meanings they could discover. You're in for it, mate."

Harry sighed. "Thanks for warning me, at least. I can handle the questions. You and Hermione need to make sure I don't accidentally put my arm around Ginny or something."

"Already on it," said Ron. "I've got 'Harry duty' and Hermione's watching out for Ginny. She's as likely to give it away as you are, you know."

Across the room, Ginny looked up from where she was standing with Angelina and Hermione and caught Harry's eye again. She looked ready to mouth something at him when Hermione suddenly elbowed her in the side. Ginny dropped her eyes back to the conversation she'd been having and Harry stifled a groan. "Tonight may very well kill me," he said.

He didn't realize how loudly he'd spoken. Suddenly George and Fred were there on either side of him, familiar looks of glee and curiosity on both of their faces.

"What might kill you, Harry?" Fred asked. He was twirling something in his hand – the newspaper article, artfully folded to look like a . . .

"What the bloody hell is that?" asked Harry weakly, even though he was pretty sure he knew.

"It's a Potter-Prophet-Paper-Penis," announced George in a loud voice. All other conversations stopped.

"Prototype Potter-Prophet-Paper-Penis," corrected Fred. It's the first one we've made, and I'm not sure we got it exactly right. He held up the object, which looked disconcertingly like a real male sexual organ, complete with balls hanging below. They'd worked it so Harry's own, drunk face spread across the tip, while two sets of roving hands (his and Katerina's, he realized) moved up and down the shaft. They must have run out of paper then, because the dangling testicles seemed to be covered with the weather report. It had been _wet and steamy_ that night, apparently. Harry shook his head, not sure whether to laugh or groan.

"Angelina, Katie, you played Quidditch with Harry. Ever catch sight of him in the changing room? What do you think?" Fred waved the penis in the air and everyone laughed. Harry grinned despite himself.

"Hey, no fair asking Angelina or Katie. It was a lot smaller back then," he joked. Bill leaned down to whisper in Fleur's ear and Harry had the feeling that he'd be meeting with the twins about a special order of his own before the night was over.

"But hey, Ginny can't see it," George said suddenly. "It's not appropriate. Ginny, close your eyes," he ordered. "You're not old enough to see Harry's bits."

"Excuse me? I'm nineteen years old!" said Ginny indignantly. "I'm certainly old enough to see . . . whatever everyone else can," she finished lamely. "Including a paper penis." She flicked her eyes at it and then, ever so briefly, at Harry. _I know what it looks like better than anyone_ her expression said. Harry felt a swoop in his belly.

"A paper what?" asked Molly. She'd just come in from the garden and her arms were full of carrots. Fred dropped his hands behind his back. Molly looked back and forth at her children and shook her head. "Actually, I don't want to know. Sit down, everyone," she said briskly. She flicked her wand and a knife by the sink floated up to start peeling and cutting the carrots.

There was a rather mad rush as everyone tried to find seats. Harry held back, fully expecting that Fred and George planned to sit on either side of him and hoping to thwart their plans by sidling closer to end of the table where their mum always sat. But the twins seemed remarkably unconcerned about their own seating arrangements, sitting at random, nowhere near each other. Harry cautiously sat down next to Molly, figuring she'd be his best line of defense against whatever the twins had planned. His fork clattered to the floor and he bent down to pick it up, only to emerge from under the table to discover that nearly every seat had been magically repositioned. Molly was still at one short end of the table near the kitchen and Arthur at the other, but Harry was now seated right in the center of one of the long sides, with Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, Bill and Fleur lined up across from him like they were his own personal Inquisatorial Squad. Dam was to his left and Ginny to his right, with Ron and Hermione beyond them and Percy and Audrey further still.

Fred and George had made sure Harry was surrounded. For a moment, he wondered if they'd already twigged to him and Ginny and put her directly next to him for easy access to whatever they'd planned. She was laughing along with everyone else at the spell that had rearranged all their seats, flicking her napkin at Fred and very carefully not looking at Harry. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the tingling he felt on the side of his body closest to her. George was speaking, and Harry tried to focus on him instead. _Constant Vigilance._

"Nah Ron, we know he's probably already recruited you and Hermione to help him get out of this," George was saying. "Ginny and Dam are going to be much better at applying pressure. You stay where you are." George looked across the table. "Right, Dam?"

Dam grinned. "That's why I'm here," he said. "I feel it's my duty as Harry's captain to get to the bottom of this, and no one better to help me do it."

"And you too Ginny, right?" asked Fred. "I'll bet you know all sorts of tricks to torture Harry into confessing, don't you?"

"Umm," said Ginny. "I think . . ."

"Of course Ginny will help," interrupted Dam. "She's already used her Auror skills to uncover the secret identities of those witches who broke into our building. Figuring out who Harry's new girlfriend is should be a breeze." He leaned back in his chair. "Where does she live anyway?" he asked. "Over the pub?"

"Umm, no," said Harry shortly. "But, umm, not far." The side of him next to Ginny felt very hot all of a sudden.

"So she's officially your girlfriend then?" asked Molly. She'd stood up and was levitating platters and bowls of food onto the table. "I'm sure she's lovely, dear," she said in a voice that stated very clearly that she wouldn't tolerate Harry being without anyone who _wasn't_ lovely. "Why don't you invite her here for dinner?" _So we can confirm her loveliness for ourselves._

"Mum, don't pester him," said Ginny quickly. She shifted in her seat and Harry felt a hint of pressure against his foot. Then it disappeared. "We can be quite a lot to take, as a group, you know. Maybe Harry's . . . girlfriend is shy." Harry heard Ginny's voice trip over the word and he bit back a smile at her vocalization of their relationship. He moved his own foot to tap Ginny's and heard her blow out a soft breath.

"Is that why you've kept her hidden, because she's shy?" asked Audrey, giving him a sympathetic gaze. Audrey was quiet and proper and perfectly matched to Percy, which meant that she often didn't quite understand the rest of his family. Harry met her gaze easily.

"She's umm, she's private," he said. "Not shy. She's actually umm, pretty outgoing, once you get to know her. And smart and . . . "

"She sounds lovely," interrupted Hermione loudly from down the table. Harry stopped, feeling his cheeks flame. Thank Merlin for Hermione. He'd been about to completely ruin his story that the witch wasn't that important to him. Another moment and he might have begun lauding the soft and smooth state of Ginny's skin.

"and she loves Quidditch," he finished weakly. He tried to think of something to say that would deflect his babbling away from the fact that he'd nearly described Ginny to her entire family. "She umm, she's come to almost all our games," he said a little more firmly. Maybe it would make her sound like a crazed fan that he'd happened to start spending time with or something. He sighed, hoping that maybe the questioning would wind down now that the table was full of food. He reached for the nearest platter of potatoes. Ginny reached out at the same time and their hands touched, the simple contact sending a jolt of heat right to Harry's groin. He chanced a look at her.

"Sorry," he said thickly. "You can go first. I'll hold the bowl for you."

"Thanks Harry," said Ginny formally. "That's very nice of you." She reached across his body for one of the serving spoons strewn across the table, the side of her breast brushing against his arm. He jumped in his seat, nearly knocking over his water glass.

"You okay there, Harry?" asked Ron quickly from where he'd been watching further down the table. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to uhh, to send a Stinging Hex your way. I was trying to . . . uhh . . . scratch my foot."

Harry waved Ron off. "Fine, I'm fine," he muttered. He made a show of rubbing his head, hoping it masked the fact that he was trying to adjust himself inside his trousers. Ginny sat back in her seat but reached over to brush her hand across his cheek as if checking for injury. He heard something that sounded like it might have been Ron groaning.

"It didn't leave a mark," she said after a minute. Harry thought Ginny may have shivered then, but she hid it by turning roughly away from him to berate Ron. "Watch out with your hexes," she said. "It got me too, on my shoulder."

While Ron gave a rather insincere apology, his eyes warning Harry and Ginny to behave themselves, Dam sat forward in his chair, his plate already half empty.

"I bet our security cameras at the arena can figure out who she is," he said to Fred and George. He looked down the table. "This is delicious, Molly."

"How could the cameras help?" asked Fred. "Don't you get thousands of people at your games?"

Dam nodded around a mouthful of chicken. "But they can isolate those fans who've also been inside our apartment building, there's a spell or something that'll do it," he said, waving his fork for emphasis. "It's how they keep track of anyone who might be trying to scout our players away to another team, matching the magical signatures or something. He elbowed Harry again. "You brought her to your flat, right?"

It figured that this was the time Dam chose to understand something about magical security wards. Harry shuffled in his seat again and wondered if he could make an excuse to run to the loo. "I'm not sure . . ." he began.

"Wait." Bill spoke authoritatively from across the table. "Did you say you'd gotten her into the building? How the hell did you do that?"

"Fuck," Ginny said under her breath. Harry silently agreed. He might have been able to confuse a hungover Ron about getting a witch into the building, but there was no way Bill would buy it. And Harry had no idea exactly what was required to get a non-resident past the wards these days.

"I uhh, I wanted to," he said, trying to remember if Dam knew for certain that Harry had had sex in his flat. "The wards kept her out though. We uhh, we ended up going somewhere else."

Bill was shaking his head. "Even an attempt should have triggered . . ." he looked sharply at Harry. "Did you do something like try to impersonate Hermione's password?" he asked. "Miriam thought maybe that the charm that allows in regular visitors might weaken over time."

Harry swallowed hard and forced himself not to look at Ginny. "Umm," he said again.

"Ohhh, so that's why I had trouble getting to Ron's this morning," said Hermione suddenly. "Harry, why didn't you tell me you tried to get your witch inside with my name?"

Harry appreciated how hard Ron and Hermione were trying to help him, but he couldn't help but feel that every word any of them spoke brought the secret closer to unraveling completely. He had half a mind to blurt it out right there – maybe announcing that his secret witch was actually Ginny would shock everyone into silence long enough for him to grab her and Apparate away. Like to Antarctica.

A savior arrived in the form of Fleur, who until now had been sitting quietly, rubbing her growing belly with a rather dreamy look on her face. "I'm sure it's fine," she said calmly, leaning over to feed Bill a bite of food off her own fork. Harry saw one of her hands disappear in the direction of Bill's lap and the man's eyes go a bit unfocused. "So Harry wants to keep things with his witch private, so what?" she asked. "I think it's quite romantic." She smiled at him, and Harry had the odd sensation that maybe Fleur knew more than she was letting on."

"But the wards," said Bill weakly.

"'Ze wards are stronger than any other building in London," said Fleur. "And I know you will check them again tomorrow, to make sure. Right now, let's finish enjoying 'zis lovely meal and let poor Harry have some peace to daydream about 'is witch." She picked up her fork again.

Harry wasn't sure if Fleur had called on some of her Veela magic, but her speech seemed to calm everyone at the table. "This isn't over, Potter," said George, leaning in to talk quietly with Fred. "We have many more tools at our disposal to get you to confess."

Harry had no illusions that the twins were ready to give up, but at least he could finish his dinner in peace. Next to him, Ginny began a long conversation with her father about the work she and Ron and Angelina were doing with the Aurors, and Harry did his best to join in. She didn't mention Kane or Robards, instead making everyone laugh with imitations of some of their classmates and discussions about their favorite hexes to use on each other. Fred and George were still whispering urgently with each other, and Bill seemed to have found something more engrossing to think about than the state of the wards on Harry's flat. Dam was still eating, making quiet humming noises of appreciation. Harry filed away the fact that the Keeper could be distracted with good food for another day.

"Which reminds me," Ginny said suddenly, speaking more loudly than she had been. "I have a few books from Hogwarts somewhere in my room that I wanted to bring to my flat." She looked at her mother. "Or did you put the rest of my things in the attic?"

"I'm not sure," said Molly. She stood up and began clearing away the dishes. "I haven't finished emptying out your room yet. You may have to check both places."

Ginny sighed rather dramatically. "Okay, I'll go take a look; do I have time to check before pudding?" She lost her balance as she stood up, falling heavily against Harry.

He grabbed at her waist. "Watch it there, Ginny," he said, hoping no one heard the arousal in his voice. "No more Firewhiskey for you."

"Prat," said Ginny, swatting him away. "Just for that, you can go all the way up to the attic while I search my room. The ghoul always stares at my bum when I'm up there."

"He stares at everyone's bum," said Molly mildly, turning towards the kitchen. "The pies will be ready in fifteen minutes, so you'd better hurry if you don't want to miss out."

George grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey off the table. "Just enough time," he said, jumping up. "Dam, how good are you at drinking games? Think maybe you and Harry could take on me and Fred?" He looked over at Harry and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

"Dam laughed. "I could probably outdrink almost all of you myself."

"Heh, he probably could," said Harry quickly. "Since Charlie's not here." He swallowed hard, entire body tingling for reasons entirely unrelated to what the twins might have in mind.

Dam clapped him on the back. "You'll be on my team anyway Potter," he said. "I know you're a lightweight, but maybe we can toughen you up."

"I uhh, I promised Ginny I'd search the attic for her," he said, hoping it sounded like he was jumping at the chance to escape more interrogation about his witch. "Like you said, you can probably outdrink Fred and George by yourself." He looked around. "But take Ron if you need a partner," he said. "He can hold his liquor about as well as I can."

"Oi," said Hermione. "Doubtful."

"Eh, we'll figure out even teams then," said Fred. He grabbed Katie's hand. "Want to help me against George and Angelina? I think Bill's a lost cause." He patted his pockets. "But where did I put the . . . has anyone seen the Potter Penis?" he asked. "It's an important part of the game."

"The what?" asked Molly. "Is this the thing I don't want to know about?"

"Never mind," said Fred quickly. "To the sitting room, everyone!"

Harry climbed the stairs towards the attic, the sounds from the sitting room slowly fading away. Ginny had left him at the second floor, disappearing into her room with no words, but a heated look that nearly caused him to follow her to her bed right there, family be damned. Instead, he continued upwards, unzipping his trousers on the way to give some attention to the growing erection he'd been trying to control ever since he arrived at the Burrow. He'd much rather have Ginny touching him from the start, but if they missed pudding there'd be questions to answer and hell to pay. Foreplay was going to have to be abandoned this time.

Ginny caught up with him on the landing outside of Ron's room, panting slightly from the exertion of her quick climb. Or maybe something else; her own trousers were already undone and barely hanging about her hips. She didn't say a word, just crushed herself against Harry, her tongue finding his.

"This is torture," he said a moment later when they pulled apart. "Do you think anyone suspects?"

"Not at all," said Ginny swiftly. "Except maybe Fleur, and she's not going to tell." She looked critically at the steep ladder that led up to the attic. "I really don't want to have sex with the ghoul watching," she said.

Harry shivered. "You want to try to have sex?" he asked. "I wasn't sure if you meant to just do other things." He was already pushing down his own trousers.

"I touched myself all the way up here," said Ginny. She reached out and ran her hand across his penis. "And it looks like you're ready too," she said.

"I've been ready all evening," said Harry thickly. A faint shout from down the stairs made him pause. "Can you be quiet enough?" he asked. He turned Ginny gently around so that her back was to him and she was facing the ladder.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked. "I don't know, can you?" she asked. She leaned forward and grabbed the rungs, wrapping her hands around them in a way that made Harry throb in recognition.

He swallowed hard and pushed Ginny's trousers down to her ankles and her knickers after them. She stepped out of one side and spread her legs, pushing her bum towards him. Harry stepped forward and nestled his erection against her, grabbing at her hips. He snaked one hand around Ginny's front and found her clit, fondling it for a moment and then slipping two fingers inside to assure himself that she was as ready as he was. The wetness there was all the answer he needed. With a grunt, he replaced his fingers with his penis, pushing all the way into Ginny in a single, fluid motion.

Ginny made a small sound of relief and pushed herself more firmly against Harry, wiggling her hips and bending forward a little further. She moved her hands to lower set of rungs, and the new position helped Harry slide another inch inside.

Harry kept one hand on Ginny's clit and moved the other to wrap around her waist, keeping her from falling over as he thrust. He didn't even need to move in and out much; the new position, the urgency of time, and the very real possibility of getting discovered was arousing enough that he needed to focus on not climaxing right then. He leaned forward, pressing his chest against Ginny's back, the soft wool of her jumper tickling his nose. There was something unbelievable about all of it; how many times over the years had he trooped tiredly up here, ducking around this same ladder to get inside Ron's room for bed? He used to lie on the camp bed, waiting until Ron was snoring away, before daring to let his thoughts drift to Ginny and his hand drift down inside his pajamas. How many times had he wanked up here?

And now he was in the middle of a reality that was a million times better than any of his fantasies could have created. Ginny wasn't yelling, but her soft mumbles of _right there, fuck Harry, move like that again _seemed to fill up the quiet space, interrupted only by the creaking of the ladder as she shuddered against it and Harry's own words in response.

Their climaxes occurred almost simultaneously, surprising him. He'd known he was close, but hadn't quite realized Ginny was there too; normally he looked at her face to recognize when she was close to orgasm. Making love from behind was going to require a new set of observations.

He removed his hand from Ginny's clit and pulled her back to him, his shaky legs guiding them both down to the floor. He kissed her neck and tickled gently up and down her sides while their breathing slowed before casting a number of cleaning charms around them. Ginny added a few too, before turning around in his lap and wrapping her legs around his waist. Harry's penis gave a twitch of interest.

"Again?" he asked, amused.

Ginny leaned forward and kissed him. "A promise for later," she said. She stood up slowly. "Stay up here a minute. I'll tell everyone I found the book in my room and sent it back to my flat." She reached down and pulled Harry to his feet.

He pulled up his pants and trousers. "At least now maybe I can make it through pudding without having to run to the loo to wank," he said.

HPHPHP

Back downstairs, Ginny was deep in conversation with Ron and Hermione at the doorway to the sitting room when Harry arrived. She barely spared him a glance, but he saw a faint blush climb up her cheeks, and Hermione gave him a rather knowing look. The drinking game seemed to have ended in a draw without anyone getting too pissed, and Harry said a silent word of thanks. He ducked when a line of steaming pies floated out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. Molly followed behind them with a stack of plates.

"I thought we'd finish up in here," she said. "So we can listen to the wireless while we eat."

Harry knew his face probably reflected that of most of the Weasley children, who knew they were now in for an hour or more listening to the bleating noise of Celestina Warbeck. But for the fact that Molly's pies were the best he'd ever tasted, Harry suspected that he wasn't the only one who would have made excuses to go back to flats and cottages as soon as possible.

But Dam was bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. "My mum loves Celestina," he said happily. "It'll feel like home to listen to her again."

Molly gave him a fond look. Harry glanced at Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They couldn't leave without Dam, and now it looked like he'd be settling in for a while. Harry began to sincerely wonder if he wouldn't need to pull Ginny away again before the evening was through; one orgasm might not be enough.

Dam settled into a chair next to Molly and everyone else took up their places on the sofas and other seats around the room. Ginny flopped into the large, overstuffed chair that matched the one in her flat and Harry had the sudden, perverse urge to squeeze in next to her, pulling her legs over his lap. The thought was enough to send him quickly to sit on the the other side of the room, where he found himself on the loveseat, uncomfortably sandwiched between Fred and George. They were both still steaming faintly from the Firewhiskey, which made Harry feel rather as though he was sitting between two lolling dragons.

The music began and everyone, sans Molly and Dam, gave small sighs of resignation. Harry tried not to look across to where Ginny was. Unfortunately, that meant that he had to look at Bill and Fleur instead, and even though Bill was gently rubbing across the swell of his wife's belly, Harry could tell he was still also thinking about the wards and what he might have done wrong to allow Harry to get his witch inside.

"So how far were you able to get her in?" he asked, leaning forward. "Did she breach the lobby?"

"Harry breached her in the lobby," broke in George with a grin. He turned sideways to look at Harry. "Dam told us the poster's now up to four times." He smirked. "Although that was yesterday, right? Maybe it's higher now?"

Harry was more than a little relieved that there was no way for the twins to know that the poster had just recently changed to the number five. He ran his hands through his hair as Dam laughed.

"So she's a Quidditch fan, huh? Plenty to choose from among those witches camped out in front of our building." He looked over at Ron. "Has Harry seemed more interested in leaving from the front entrance lately?"

Ron shrugged. "Umm, not that I've noticed," he said carefully. He looked at Hermione. "We uhh, we haven't been home much lately."

"Which means that the flat is plenty empty for Harry to bring his witch home," said George promptly. "Bill, what is it you need to approve a non-resident to get into the building? Their name at least, right?"

Bill nodded. "Name, home address, wand information to start," he said. "I was able to take Hermione's voice so Ron doesn't have to come downstairs to let her in every time, but she's a special case."

"Is your witch a special case Harry?" asked Fred in a sing-song voice. "Don't you want her to be able to come visit you in your flat?"

"Umm," said Harry. His mind was a total blank.

"She might start to think you don't care about her, if you won't bring her to your place," added George. "Witches want to make sure you're not a slob, you know."

"Or that you're not hiding another girlfriend there," said Fred.

"Or that you're not embarrassed of her," said George.

"Boys, boys," said Arthur mildly. "Give the poor boy a break. The two of you are lucky to be dating witches you've known for a long time. They knew exactly what they were getting into." He smiled at Angelina and Katie. "Didn't you now?"

"And yet, we still decided to date them," said Angelina dryly. Everyone laughed.

"Right then," said Arthur. "But not everyone jumps into a relationship the same way. Harry doesn't have to bring his witch to his flat – or here to dinner – if he doesn't want to." He directed his next words straight to Harry, who had the feeling Arthur was giving him a piece of advice he might have dispensed to some of his sons over the years. "And if you aren't serious about her, there's no harm in insisting on keeping your own space. Especially if you don't expect her to be around for long."

Fred gave a dramatic sigh. "Is that it then, Harry? Is this witch just a fleeting moment in your consciousness? Are we all wasting our time?"

Harry froze. Arthur had given him an out, and it made sense to take it. If no one thought he was going to be with the witch for long, maybe they'd stop trying to figure out who she was. He'd probably be able to carve out another month or two with Ginny before anyone pressured him again about his girlfriend. It was the smart thing to do, to agree with Arthur.

"She's . . ." Harry paused, the denial on his lips fading away. Even knowing why he should lie, he couldn't say it, couldn't tell everyone the witch was nothing to him, someone they needn't concern themselves with getting to know. Across the room, Ginny was watching him, and it was to her, and her alone, he directed his words. "She's not random, and she _is_ someone I plan to see again. Every single day if I can help it." He took a deep breath, looking for Ginny's expression. She wasn't laughing anymore, and her eyes were expectant. "I'm in love with her, actually."

A moment of silence, and then the room exploded into a cacophony of noise – laughter, incredulity, shouted questions, joking barbs. Harry ignored them all as he saw Ginny's expression morph into the blazing look he'd come to understand showed her deepest emotions.

"In love?" Someone – maybe one of the twins - spoke in disbelief. "We thought you were just shagging!"

Harry numbly shook his head. "Not just shagging," he said, not caring who he was talking to.

"Well then, when do we get to meet 'er, if she's that important to you?" Fleur's voice.

"Maybe we should let Harry . . ." that was likely Ron, trying to help. Harry wanted to walk over to Ginny; he wanted her to walk over to him, and yet, they both stayed frozen in their seats.

Bill interrupted Ron.

"What I want to know is why Harry's staring at Ginny," he said. "Ginny?" Bill's voice turned towards his sister. "Have you been giving Harry advice about his witch? Did you know he was in love with her?"

Bill assumed Ginny had taken it upon herself to help Harry with his relationship issues, just like she did with her brothers. His words pulled Harry out of most of his stupor. He looked at Bill and then gave Ginny a tiny nod, granting silent permission to agree with her brother, to let her keep their secret. Instead, Ginny shook her head.

"I . . . I didn't know," she said shakily. Even from across the room, Harry could see her trembling. "But I hoped." She swallowed, and then directed her words back to Harry alone. "Because I'm in love with you too."

Harry assumed the Weasleys got even louder at that point, or maybe they were shocked into silence; he didn't really notice. No one stopped him as he crossed the room and pulled Ginny out of her chair so he could wrap her in his arms. She lay her head on his chest and he kissed her hair. Her trembling slowed and she melted against him. "Can we just leave now?" she whispered.

"Okay," Harry responded immediately. Ginny chuckled against him in a way that would have probably started something if they hadn't already taken care of their most pressing need up by the attic. Now Harry just wanted to hold Ginny for as long as possible, her head tucked under his chin and their heartbeats slowing to match each other.

But they were standing in the middle of the Weasley's sitting room, in the middle of all the Weasleys themselves, and Harry's happiness couldn't block them out forever. He turned around, gently maneuvering himself so as not to lose contact with Ginny. She turned with him and snaked one arm across his front as they confronted her family together.

Ron and Hermione were the easiest to look at. Hermione was smiling happily at them and Ron was laughing outright. "I knew you two weren't going to make it all evening," he sputtered, wiping his eyes.

For a moment, all attention moved away from Harry and Ginny.

"You knew?"

"And you didn't tell us?" Fred and George turned to their younger brother.

"Only since yesterday morning," Ron protested.

"That's thirty-six hours!" the twins intoned as one.

Harry couldn't let Ron take the blame. "I asked him . . . I mean, _we_ asked him not to tell," he said. "Ginny and I did." He realized how much he liked saying that. He tightened his arm around her and nodded his head at Ron and Hermione. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"So you'd really put your best mate over your brothers?" asked Fred in an aggrieved voice. The rest of the family seemed content to let the twins do the talking. Even Dam was oddly silent, Harry noted.

"My best mate _and_ my sister," corrected Ron. "And yeah, I would." Hermione leaned over and gave him a kiss and he smiled back at her.

"But . . . Harry and Ginny hate each other," said George.

"She hexed him," added Fred.

"Old news," said Harry. "We were both being prats"

"We just needed to get to know each other," said Ginny. She snuggled closer to him.

Harry was relieved that no one seemed inclined to hex him or kick him out of the house so far, or even to make a comment about just _how well_ Harry and Ginny had gotten to know each other, but then again, the silence from the rest of the family might have been because they were still in shock. Bill had a concerning frown on his face and Fleur was whispering rapidly in his ear. Percy looked like he was about to announce the formation of some new Ministry committee designed for the specific purpose of keeping Harry and Ginny apart, and Harry was remarkably glad Charlie wasn't there. Katie and Angelina were, not surprisingly, grinning widely. He chanced a look at Ginny's parents.

Over the years, Harry had seen Molly and Arthur endure some of the toughest circumstances imaginable with respect to their children. He'd seen them sob and worry, heard them argue and yell, seen Arthur nearly killed and Molly kill another, always in pursuit of what was good and what was right, and always with the unconditional love and support Harry himself had come to expect.

He didn't think he'd ever seen them look so _pleased_ though. They were surprised too, he could tell, and he was sure there were going to be many discussions between them in the future. But as he looked at Molly and Arthur standing with their arms around each other much the way Harry and Ginny were, Harry knew without question how happy they were at the night's development. He smiled at them both, feeling calmer than he had all evening. No matter what anyone else thought, he doubted anyone would cross Mrs. Weasley. Ginny's parents smiled back, and Molly even dabbed at her eyes with a towel.

Harry's eyes found Ron.

"You were right," he said simply.

Ron smirked. "I told you, mate." He shook his head with mock worry. "Now you're really in for it."

"Ron's right about something else?" Fred and George weren't ready to let anything go. George looked suddenly at Dam. "Did you know?"

Harry felt a swoop in his stomach that had nothing to do with Ginny. "Uh oh," he mumbled. Ginny squeezed his waist.

Dam lifted his hands in supplication. "No idea," he said. He shook his head. "None. I thought Harry and Ginny were just friends, and that Harry was shagging some fan-witch he met in a pub."

"I'd really hoped he'd not mention that," whispered Ginny.

"Shagging? Ginny, are you and Harry . . .?" Bill finally found his voice, although he didn't quite seem to want to use it. He rubbed at his eyes. "Aren't you too young?"

"For the last time, I'm nineteen," said Ginny. "I'm old enough to do a lot of things none of you realize."

"Like take down multiple witches who've tried to sneak into her building," said Angelina. "She's an amazing Auror already – everyone's talking about it."

"And prevent me from falling on my arse when I'm pissed," added Dam. He grinned. "Guess I'd better stop harassing Harry about all the action he's getting now, shouldn't I?" He shook his head. "That poster," he said, half to himself.

"And I really hoped he'd not mention that," muttered Harry to Ginny. He braced himself.

"The . . . oh shit," said Fred.

"You told us . . . four?" George asked Dam in a weak voice.

"That's . . . two more since Friday," said Fred.

"And you didn't breach the wards to get her inside," said Bill. His voice held andodd mix of relief that his security spells hadn't failed and shock at the reason why. He shook his head and looked at his sister. "But you're . . ."

"Nineteen," said Fleur. "She's nineteen, which iz one year older than when I started dating you." She tugged on Bill's arm. "The bebe needs to go to bed," she said. "And I need . . ." she rose up on her toes to whisper in his ear."

Bill swallowed. "Yeah, okay," he said thickly. He started following his wife out of the sitting room. At the door, he stopped and turned around. "Harry, I . . . we need to have a talk about this. Ginny's . . . she's . . ." he stopped and looked at his sister. "Don't I need to have a talk with him?"

Ginny grinned. "Sure Bill, you can talk to both of us together. We'd like that." Harry snorted in her ear as Bill called out a quick goodbye and left. "That's one way to keep Bill from asking too many questions," he whispered. "Tell him his baby sister's having sex."

"Fleur will calm him down," said Ginny under her breath. "But next time Charlie's in town I bet they pull you aside to make sure your intentions are proper." She giggled. "Should I tell him that I got a good look at that paper penis, and that it's entirely too small?"

"Only if you want the real thing to be hexed into next year," he retorted. "I hope I never see that that particular prototype again."

"You never know," said Ginny with a smirk. "But don't worry, it won't be in public." She patted the pocket of her trousers.

Harry kissed her. "What did you do?" Ginny shrugged. "Let's just say that the faces at the tip aren't the same as before," she said with a grin.

A loud _Ahem_ interrupted.

Across the room, Fred and George had been conferring with each other. They stood up and announced they'd be leaving immediately with Angelina and Katie.

Harry, Ron? Which one of you wants to let us into your flat?" asked Fred.

Ron looked confused. "Our flat? Why?"

George grimaced. "It seems as if you have a poster that needs removing. Now."


	28. Kane and Can't

A/N: This is not at all where I intended to end the main part of the chapter, but I'm so busy right now that if I tried to get everything done that I wanted, I wouldn't be able to post for another week. So here you go with a bunch of plot. And after the plot is an outtake I wrote before I even started this chapter. I knew I had to get some plot written and I didn't want to start the chapter with another sexy scene, but I couldn't just let the mention go by. So instead, you get to end with a sexy look into Harry and Ginny's night. Enjoy!

HPHPHPHPHP

"Today we start our unit on . . . glad you could join us, Mr. Weasley." Camilla raised her eyebrows and inclined her head at the desk right in front of where she was lecturing. Ginny gave her brother a sympathetic grimace as he slouched quickly into the room and took his seat. He and Hermione had gone straight to her flat after dinner at the Burrow the night before and Ginny couldn't blame them. They'd both rather exhausted themselves trying to help keep her and Harry's secret from the rest of the family, and, as Ron put it, he wanted a couple of hours where he could say whatever he wanted, as loudly as he wanted. Hermione had blushed mightily but hadn't disagreed, slipping out the door of the Burrow with Ron as soon as possible.

Harry, Ginny, and Dam had accompanied the twins back to Harry and Ron's flat, Ginny leaving them at the door and walking down the hallway to her own. Fred and George were still looking rather shell-shocked and Dam wouldn't stop asking questions about _how did it all happen _and _had they shagged at the stadium yet _and Ginny felt a little bad about leaving Harry to sort everything out by himself until he gave her a quick peck on the lips before he left.

"Good idea, I think your brothers have hit their limit," he whispered against her hair. "They've never had one of their jokes turn on them like this."

"Watch out for the day they get their bearings again," she mumbled back. "We'll be in for it."

It had taken Harry almost an hour to show up at her flat, wearing a mischievous look on his face he wouldn't explain.

"Fred and George learned an important lesson," was all he would say, and Ginny let it go, there being too many other things she'd rather be doing with Harry than talking about her brothers. Several orgasms later, they'd finally fallen asleep. Harry had woken up early to pack for his next road trip and Ginny had Apparated to work alone.

But she didn't quite realize how her thoughts had wandered until she saw Kane smiling at her from across the room. Ginny hadn't even noticed him slip into the room to listen to the lecture. Face flaming, she turned away from Ron and gave all her attention to Camilla.

". . . investigation techniques," she said. "We've touched on this a bit during our introductory lessons on interrogation, and we'll be circling back to what you've learned already. But now it's time to dig deeper and work on uncovering information that our witnesses or individuals of interest might not be as eager to give up. You will be going out on real investigations for real cases," she said, "nothing contrived for the point of training." Excited murmuring broke out among the trainees. They had just begun learning the details of some of the Aurors' ongoing cases, and there was a good-natured debate about who might be chosen to chase down rumors of a Revenant over in Surrey and who might be stuck ridding the local public school's locker room of a rogue Boggart or two. Ginny twisted in her seat to see if Ron wanted to try to pair up when a shadow crossed her desk.

"Ginny, you'll be going out with me." Camilla stood in front of her wearing the friendly smile Ginny knew meant her public words weren't going to match her real purpose. Across the room, Ginny saw Kane watching them. Gawain Robards was there too, but he was examining a piece of parchment, seemingly unconcerned with the activity in the room. Camilla glanced at Kane briefly before continuing, raising her voice just a bit. "I don't think it's anything more than marketing ploy, but I thought we might check out that special drink from the pub a number of you visited the other night. To make sure they aren't trying to drive up sales by adding anything addicting. It will be a good assignment for you." Camilla smiled again, but Ginny saw right though the excuse. The potion had clearly been something more than a way for the pub to sell more drinks; its honesty-inducing properties could have any number of uses. No one seemed to have revealed anything significant while under its influence, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen next time. She nodded slowly.

"That's a good idea," she said, speaking as clearly as Camilla. "I think the public deserves to know what's actually in their drinks." She smiled. "Before they decide to get completely pissed, of course."

"Of course," nodded Camilla. "We'll pop over to the pub and speak with the owner; it will be a good first step to help identify other individuals who might also have some information."

"No need for that, we've got all the information you need right here!" Kane's voice was loud enough that several nearby trainees stopped looking over their own assignments and listened. Gawain Robards was reading over a piece of parchment, seemingly not paying any attention.

"I don't think so . . . Shep," said Camilla tightly. Ginny saw the man grimace at the use of his nickname; she'd heard he hated it. He directed his next comments in Ginny's direction.

"As Miss Weasley will certainly determine, the frivolities at the pub were just that: a lighthearted way to have a bit of fun. I'm sure she can clear up her questions in a trice and join one of the other trainee groups on their investigation." Kane spoke with the infuriating certainty of someone used to having people agree with him. The unstated implication was that Camilla – and by extension, Ginny – were making a big deal out of something that wasn't really worth the Aurors' time. Ginny wasn't cowed.

"I understand, sir. But I'd like to pursue and investigation anyway. Given that I was there in the pub that night, and saw the effects of the potion, my analysis of the possible danger is slightly differen." Ginny spoke respectfully, but with some force. "And didn't you teach us that one of the most important skills for an Auror to develop is instinct, and the ability to follow it?" She gave Kane a guileless smile, while next to her, Camilla made a small sound of approval.

Kane's lips tightened for a moment but then they relaxed into a smile. "Indeed I did, Miss Weasley. I've always been impressed with your ability to absorb everything you learn and then apply it to your work."

Kane was back to bald flattery. By now Ginny understood how often the man resorted to the trick, and that such statements were usually followed by his attempts to control the situation. This time was no different.

"But still, there's no need to journey all the way to the pub," said Kane, leaning in conspiratorially toward Camilla and Ginny as if he was revealing an important secret. "It so happens that the woman who helped brew the potion is here at the Ministry today. I can set up an interview here; I'm sure she'll tell you everything you need to know. Such as it is, of course." He inclined his head

Ginny was aware of Camilla's start of surprise but carefully did not look at her. For a moment she considered asking Kane outright if he was talking about Sascha Bellows but decided to keep that piece of knowledge to herself for now. She had no doubt that Kane was fully aware that Sascha had disguised herself as a server, but she didn't think the man knew how familiar with the various Bellows sisters Ginny was. Better to play a little clueless for now. She nodded.

"That will be . . . useful, I think," she said. "For a start, at least." Try as she might, Ginny couldn't bring herself to act so dumb that it seemed like she'd completely given up her suspicions. Kane gave her a small nod of concession before turning to Camilla.

"Stalk, why don't you take Johnson and Patil; they're investigating the Daley and Falk cases and could probably use someone experienced along with them. Mrs. Daley got rather hysterical the last time we tried to speak to her."

"That's the situation where dangerous plants are appearing mysteriously in people's gardens?" Ginny had seen an article about it the week prior; a two-year old boy had been playing alongside his mum while she cleared weeds when a strange root had suddenly poked up from the dirt and grabbed him about the leg. His mother managed to shoot a spell to release him, but the child's leg had been badly injured. He was still in St. Mungo's. The incident had been written off as the result of a rogue seedling until a second incident had killed another family's dog in a different village nowhere near the first.

Kane nodded. "I see you've been keeping up with the news, Miss Weasley," he said. "While the culprit could be accidental soil or water contamination, we can't overlook the possibility that someone – or a group of someones – is placing the plants on purpose. Apparently we have a plant specialist – someone young but very good – coming down from Hogwarts to examine the growths. Our trainees are going to start by interviewing him."

Ginny was happy to hear Neville Longbottom was getting involved in the case; she'd yet to meet anyone who knew as much about plants as he did, other than Professor Sprout. But Angelina and Parvati wouldn't need the help of a more senior Auror to speak with him. She glanced at Camilla. Her mouth was set in a tight line and she looked about to say something. Instead, she took a deep breath.

"Good idea," she said stiffly. She touched Ginny on the arm. "I'm sure you'll learn something useful," she said. Unstated was the _despite the fact you're with Kane and not me._ "You can tell me later over coffee," she said pointedly. "I had some of your brother's special blend the other day and I'll admit that I'm now a bit addicted." She touched Ginny's arm before nodding at Kane and crossing the room to talk to Angelina and Parvati.

Ginny looked over at Robards to see if he'd noticed the exchange between Kane and Stalk. Strictly speaking, the two Aurors were equals, both directly before Robards, and one shouldn't have been able to direct the activities or assignments of the other. But Camilla had stepped aside with almost no protest, a move Ginny suspected was more strategic than subservient. Robards was talking to Copernicus and Lee Jordan and didn't appear to be paying attention to what his immediate subordinates were doing. Before she could think more about it, Kane cleared his throat.

"Are you ready, Miss Weasley? As I said, this shouldn't take long and then you can meet up with one of the other groups. I think Copernicus is going to be investigating some cursed brooms that turned up at one of the Quidditch League's feeder teams practices. That would certainly be of interest to you, wouldn't it?" Kane spoke mildly, but again, Ginny was struck by expectation of agreement in his voice. She took a deep breath. Camilla obviously wanted her to go along with whatever Kane's plan was, and Ginny trusted Camilla. So despite the fact that she knew from Dam that the cursed brooms were the result of a series of pranks between the teams, she nodded and smiled at Kane.

"I'd like that, yes," she said, fully intending to drag out the interview as long as she possibly could.

She caught Ron's eye just before following Kane out the door. He raised his eyebrows and she gave a tiny shrug back; hopefully he'd think to come home with Hermione to his and Harry's flat after wherever he was going for his investigation instead of going to hers.

She walked quickly to keep up with Kane, wondering exactly where Sascha was waiting. In one of the kitchens where the Aurors brewed and tested potions, maybe? But instead, the Auror walked into his own office, one of the few on the floor that boasted a door that actually closed. He left it open after ushering Ginny inside, and Ginny anticipated that Kane wanted anyone walking by to hear and see what was going on. She took a deep breath, preparing to show little emotion when confronted with Sascha, whether in her server disguise or not. It was one of the first lessons from their investigation training: Aurors must always keep their cool and their emotions in check.

But to Ginny's surprise, the office was empty. She looked at Kane in confusion. "Sir? I thought you said the . . . server was here. The one who brewed the potion she served at the pub." Ginny mentally kicked herself for falling for Kane's promise. For a moment, she wondered if Kane somehow knew that she and Harry were together now, and if he was planning to question her about it or pressure her again to ask him to come back to the Aurors. But Kane was waving his hand dismissively.

"She's waiting to talk by Floo," he said, striding over to his fireplace. Ginny heard an odd rushing noise as Kane threw the glittering powder inside and Ginny realized he'd done it to prevent her from hearing the name he yelled into the flames. A moment later, the server's face appeared.

"Hello, umm . . ." Kane began awkwardly, and Ginny stifled a snort. Apparently, for all of his planning, Kane had forgotten to confirm the name Sascha would be using in disguise.

"Sally," said Sascha quickly. "Sally Bel . . . Beletski," she finished weakly, and Ginny bit her lip. Whether the sisters had officially changed their name to Bellows at some point or it was a temporary alias, it was a useful thing for Ginny to know. She quickly revised her plan to reveal that she knew who "Sally" really was as a way to throw her and Kane off guard. Better to play along with whatever they wanted and keep her knowledge to herself. She smiled at the fireplace.

"Ginny Weasley, Auror trainee," she said. "You served me at the pub the other night, the Broken Arms?"

Sally/Sascha nodded slowly. "I think so," she said. "I serve a lot of people, at my job."

"Do you brew a special drink to get people to confess their secrets every night?" Ginny decided there was no use beating around the bush; Sascha would obviously know why Ginny wanted to talk to her and had likely already planned her answers with Kane in advance. Best to hear her story right away and maybe try to get her to slip up later. But Sascha shook her head, looking confused. She glanced quickly at Kane and then away, a move Ginny didn't reveal she'd seen.

"I . . . yes. I mean no," she said, looking at Kane again. "I mean, I just . . ."

"It's okay, Ginny knows you brewed the potion that went into the drink," said Kane jovially. "Although, I'm sure that she could have uncovered that information herself with a few questions. Miss Weasley is one of our top trainees." He leaned in towards the fire. "I didn't see a need to drag things out here."

Ginny couldn't see Kane's expression as he looked at Sascha, but after a second she nodded and her face cleared. "I don't brew it every night, no," she said. "Just when we have a particularly fun group of patrons. You know, the kind who might end up doing something newsworthy if given the right encouragement." Sascha's voice had become more confident as she spoke, and Ginny got the impression that despite whatever had surprised her, she'd found a way to return to whatever story she'd planned to tell. Ginny would have to figure out what that surprise had been later; she sensed Kane was not going to let this interview go on for very long.

"And did anyone do anything newsworthy that night?" It wasn't the question Ginny wanted to ask, but it seemed the most likely to keep the conversation going. Sascha shook her head.

"Unfortunately no," she said. "I mean, there was plenty of sexual bragging, but the Arrows aren't particularly quiet about their exploits anyway. There's no story to be had there." Sascha glanced quickly at Kane, and out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw him give a tiny nod. Sascha's expression grew more sly. "You were with Harry Potter that night, weren't you? Now there's a story that would have earned me a pretty penny if I'd been able to get him to try my drink." The woman shrugged. "But I wasn't successful, unfortunately."

Ginny stared for a moment. "How would you have earned money if Harry had drunk the potion?" she asked slowly.

Sascha shrugged again. "Why, by selling his confession to the newspaper, of course," she said. "There's a lot of money in personal information about Harry Potter. But you must know that, don't you? You were talking to him half the night."

"Only a couple of minutes," said Ginny firmly. "He's my brother's roommate, you know." She had at least a dozen more questions she wished she could ask, but many of them risked giving away that she and Harry were together. She didn't for a moment believe that the entire purpose of the potion was to create gossip to sell to the paper, but pursuing that line of questioning would reveal that she knew "Sally's" real identity. Cursing to herself that she and Camilla hadn't been able to conduct the interview themselves, Ginny gave Sascha a smile. "Harry's been my brother's best mate for a long time," she said. "I guess I sometimes forget that he's so newsworthy to the rest of the world." She turned to Kane. "You were right, this didn't take very long," she said. "Thank you for setting everything up, but I should probably go try to catch up with one of the other training groups." Ginny hoped Camilla hadn't left yet.

Kane nodded. "Copernicus is waiting for you," he said. "I don't think he knows much about Quidditch, so your experience will be invaluable."

Sighing to herself, Ginny nodded. She was going to have to figure out a way to talk to Camilla some other time. At least Kane couldn't prevent her from going over everything with Ron and Hermione and Harry later. "Good idea, sir," she said. She looked at the Floo. "And thank you . . . Sally," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster. "I'm sorry to take you away from work for these silly questions." Ginny had no idea where Sascha actually was at the moment, but pretending she was at work was the easiest way out for now.

"No trouble at all; it won't be busy here until tonight." Sascha gave her an insincere smile. "Don't go telling everyone all my secrets now, it was all just in good fun."

Ginny knew Sascha wouldn't care at all if she told anyone that the drink at the pub had been for no reason other than to sell a story to the tabloids. The lie hadn't gotten Ginny much closer to understanding how Sascha Bellows fit in with whatever Kane was doing, but at least she knew for certain that the drinks had been spiked. Hopefully talking it through that evening would help Ginny see what she might have missed.

She said her goodbyes and left Kane's office. He must have cast another privacy spell, but not before Ginny heard Sascha, now speaking again with her Russian accent, ask Kane why he'd told Ginny about who brewed the potion. Ginny couldn't hear Kane's answer, but it was obvious that Kane's lack of honestly extended in many directions.

OUTTAKE FROM GINNY AND HARRY's NIGHT

"I didn't think Dam was ever going to shut up." Harry didn't wait for Ginny's door to close fully before he took her in his arms, dropping his head to her shoulder with a groan.

Ginny ran her hands up and down his back and chuckled. "He's talkative enough on a normal day; this was a lot of information to absorb." She pulled back and looked at him. "Do you think he meant it when he said he wouldn't tell the next of the team?"

Harry nodded. "Can I get a drink?" he asked. "I was so nervous about saying something wrong at your parents, I ended up missing out on most of the whiskey."

"Get me a glass too," said Ginny. She shivered. "Then can we get in bed?"

"Yes please," said Harry. He picked up his thoughts from her earlier question as he walked to the kitchen. "For all his own bluster about his own sexual exploits, I think Dam is kind of a romantic at heart – at least, he told me he thought you and I were perfect together." He opened the good bottle of Firewhiskey and poured them each a healthy shot. "He's really thrilled about it, and I think he gets why we don't want to tell anyone else yet," he called. "All the stuff that's been going on with the Bellows has made him realize that not all fans are as innocent as he thought, and that more press is not always better press." Ginny didn't answer, and when he looked up, Harry could see why. Across the room, she was unceremoniously pulling off her clothes, shivering in the cold air. When even her knickers had fallen to the floor, she dove into bed, hissing, before grabbing her wand and mumbling a couple of spells at the sheets. They glowed for a moment and Ginny's rather stiff form relaxed into the pillows.

"That's better," Harry heard her say, although it wasn't quite clear if she was speaking to him. She pulled the blankets up to her chin and closed her eyes, but Harry could tell she wasn't preparing for sleep. "You'll have to tell me what Fred and George said too," she called to him. There was movement under the blankets. "They were a lot quieter that I would have expected." The blankets moved a bit more, around where Ginny's waist would be.

Harry swallowed hard, all thoughts of the twins' reaction flying out of his head. "Are you . . ." he started to say, and then stopped. _Just watch_. "I've never seen them stunned into silence like that before." As he walked towards her with cups of Firewhiskey floating before him, he was rather stunned into silence himself. Ginny's smile was private but relaxed; she wasn't trying to work towards completion and she obviously knew he was there. Harry stopped a few feet from the bed and watched. As much as he'd thought he'd wanted to keep their relationship secret from her family, he felt a certain relief that they knew now. It was true that he really hated the idea of lying to the Weasleys, even if the reason was legitimate. But even more, the revelation made his and Ginny's relationship feel more significant, and that was something Harry wanted. Casual shags remained hidden from family; girlfriends and loves were celebrated with them. He almost asked Ginny if she felt it too, almost asked her if she thought her family would finally stop treating her like a child, but the look on her face made him stop. She was biting her lower lip, and although the movements under the covers were still slow, there was something more purposeful about them.

"Having fun?" he asked dryly. "Because I can just take the whiskey and go back to my flat for a kip." He waved his wand and the cups settled on Ginny's bedside table.

Ginny didn't open her eyes. "Or you can watch," she said. The movement under the blankets got a little bigger.

Harry swallowed again. Arousal coursed through him, of course, but his cheeky response died in his throat as he stood in front of the bed. Before tonight, they would have both been in a hurry, trying not to get caught, trying to make sure both of them found pleasure in their stolen moments. It hadn't always worked; Ginny had gone without orgasm more times than Harry, a fact that still irked him a bit. He intended to make it up to her as soon as he could, but even though he could have started evening things out right then, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the center of the bed, and what he knew was happening under Ginny's quilt.

Her activity wasn't a commentary on the fact that he should have gotten to her flat more quickly, or a subtle suggestion that maybe his foreplay wasn't quite up to snuff. Ginny was _teasing_ him, dammit, and the fact that she was doing it out of his sight just made it that much more enticing. She arched her back and gave a tiny groan, and Harry had no trouble imagining that one of Ginny's fingers had just brushed against her clit. And maybe she'd slipped another inside, where she was already wet. He adjusted himself.

"What . . . what are you thinking about?" he said thickly, licking his lips.

Ginny was quiet for a moment. The blankets moved again.

"We . . . we just finished playing one-on-one Quidditch," she finally said. She kept her eyes closed and her face tilted towards the ceiling, as if she was envisioning the scene in her head. "I won."

Harry chuckled. "Of course." He quietly undid his trousers and pushed them off.

"It was so hot out; we both needed to shower, but . . ." she bit her lip.

Harry pulled off his shirt and slipped his hand inside his boxers. "But what, Ginny?" he asked thickly.

"But I'd taken off my shirt," she whispered. "We couldn't go to the house. It was so hot," she said again. "We went in the pond instead."

"The pond?" asked Harry faintly. He knew what Ginny meant. The Burrow was crowded and close, and even with silencing spells and locking charms, it never felt truly private. Over the years, starting with Bill and Fleur, the pond by the orchard had become the favorite place for Weasley brothers and their girlfriends to steal away for all manner of activity. The twins had even figured out how to create a "contraception zone" on the far bank, a patch of soft grass where additional charms or potions weren't necessary, where low hanging branches and thick leaves hid nearly everything from view even without adding more wards. Before Ginny had admitted that she fancied Harry too, he'd had several rather unrealistic fantasies about taking Ginny to the pond. One had definitely involved the mermaid, and he'd somehow never needed to breath, when he was under the water. But Ginny clearly had a different idea in mind.

"What did we do in the pond?" he asked. Without realizing it, he'd taken several steps closer to the bed, and Ginny's head turned towards his voice. He began to stroke himself.

"I was floating on my back," she said dreamily. "And you were between my legs. First with your mouth and then . . ." she swallowed. "And then with_ you_. You were inside me, and you had your hands under my bum and you were pumping in and out and I felt nearly weightless." One of Ginny's hands slipped out from under the blanket. She pushed an errant piece of hair off her face and Harry could see her fingers glistening in the dim light. The hand disappeared again and Ginny's hips bucked.

"I want to see," said Harry. He stood at the side of the bed and brushed his hand down Ginny's cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I want to see what you're doing, while you tell me the rest," he said.

In response, Ginny kicked the covers off. The hand between her legs was moving in and out, Ginny raising her hips slightly with each thrust. The other hand moved up to her chest. "And . . . you were kissing me while we fucked," she said breathlessly. "My breasts." She arched her back and stroked her chest until her nipples hardened.

Harry grasped himself more firmly. He began to pump, trying to time his rhythm with the in and out of Ginny's fingers. "Your legs were wrapped around my waist, weren't they?" he asked. He could see it in his mind, Ginny lying back, her hair streaming around her as she floated across the pond, grunting softly every time Harry thrust into her. In his head, he took one breast into his mouth and then the other, and then pulled Ginny up until he was holding her face to face and he could move her up and down on his erection.

"You walked me to the bank," she said breathlessly. She had her eyes on him now, her eyes darting around to follow what his hand was doing. As Harry watched, she stopped and pressed directly against her clit, moaning a little louder. "And covered me with your body."

Harry pumped harder. "I was still inside of you, right?"

Ginny gave a jerky nod. "You were," she said. "And I put my hands on your bum to hold you in place." She froze, and her hand made a convulsive movement between her legs. "You . . . begged me to let you move, said you couldn't hold on much longer," she gasped. Her own legs tightened. "And I told you to wait, told you I was almost there." She dug her heels into the mattress.

Harry groaned. "I _am_ almost there," he said. He bit his lip, struggling for control. "Do you want to . . . like this?" he asked thickly.

Ginny had closed her eyes again. A beat of silence. "Finish inside me, Harry," she gasped. She opened her legs.

Harry nearly leapt onto the bed. He pushed Ginny's hand aside and fitted himself there instead. "I need to move," he begged. "Can't hold on much longer.

Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist. "Wait," I'm almost there," she said. She put one hand on his cheek. "Look at me."

"Fuck Ginny," he groaned. He made his eyes focus on hers and saw they were dilated with need. He braced himself against the mattress and pushed into her, not breaking contact with her gaze. "Fuck."

Harry would have known when Ginny came even if she hadn't cried out. Every bit of her tightened around him; Harry couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. He didn't even try to hold back with his own orgasm, spilling into he with a groan that matched hers and collapsing fully on top of her.

He started kissing her softly before they'd even caught their breath, moving his lips across the closest patch of skin, which happened to be her shoulder. Ginny ran her hand through his hair and then tilted his head up so they could kiss properly. She gave a contented sigh. Harry pulled back to look at her.

"That was . . ." he began. He shook his head. "I don't think I have words." He kissed her again.

"I thought about having us finish separately," she said. "I think it would have been the best orgasm I ever gave myself," she said with a laugh.

"I would have come all over you," he said honestly.

Ginny smirked. "Exactly how close to me were you while you were wanking, Potter?"

"Not that close," he said with mock defensiveness. "I get good range."

Ginny laughed again. "Is this something you've tested before?" She ran her hands up and down Harry's sides until he shivered.

Harry grinned. "This would have been my first," he said. "But let a bloke dream, won't you?" He wiggled against her. "I'll be dreaming about you, of course." He kissed her again. "You made me really eager for warmer weather. I want to try out the pond for real."

"We'll have to fight my brothers for it," Ginny said. "They're all bad enough with each other, but I wouldn't put it past Fred and George to come up with a product that alerts everyone if you and I try to sneak down there.

"Heh, I don't know how eager they're going to be to get involved in anything having to do with your sex life," said Harry. He gently pulled out of her and rolled onto his side. Ginny scooted against him.

"So the poster is gone?" she asked. She met his eyes. "Not that it would change anything, but still."

"It's not on the wall anymore," Harry confirmed with a smirk.

Ginny gave him a look. "And what does that mean?" she asked.

"That Fred and George learned an important lesson," he said, running a hand over her chest. "But can we not talk about that right now? I just watched you do things to yourself that I'd rather like to be doing to you instead." He ghosted his thumb across one of Ginny's nipples. "I don't have another climax in me right this moment, but I'd really like to investigate whether you do."

Ginny shivered against him. "As long as you can do your investigating under the blankets, I'm happy to let you show me everything I won't learn from the Aurors," she said.


	29. Meddling Minds

She'd known the Arrows were going on a road trip, of course, but arriving home to her empty flat after her useless "interview" with Sacha/Sally only exacerbated Ginny's frustration. She'd spent the rest of the day with Copernicus at a Quidditch feeder team's camp even though it had been glaringly obvious to Ginny after less than ten minutes that their brooms hadn't been cursed by dark forces but charmed as a prank, likely by a rival team. Normally, a quick message to Fred and George would have given her the countercharm, but Ginny wasn't eager to have Copernicus and a bunch of semi-professional Quidditch players hear how the twins – likely still smarting after the poster debacle – might respond right now. The fact that none of the brooms could fly more than a foot off the ground or faster than walking speed should have been enough to clue her co-worker into the fact that there were no Dark forces at work here, but Copernicus had insisted on questioning every single individual involved with the team before finally concluding that Ginny was likely correct. As they split up the concluding paperwork to complete at home, Ginny had grudgingly conceded that it had been the correct procedure to follow, but with every instinct urging her to focus on Kane and his behavior, she'd been rather shorter with Copernicus than was warranted.

"I'm sorry, Cop," Ginny said tiredly. "I'll manage the bulk of the post-interview summaries. You handled things here."

Copernicus shrugged, nonplussed. "I don't mind. Don't you also have to write up the first interview you did? With that potions witch who works for the Aurors."

Ginny looked at him sharply. "You know it was Sascha Bellows?" She bit back the mention that the woman had been in disguise.

He nodded. "Shepherd Kane was talking to her when I got to work this morning. I stopped by his office to drop off some maps he asked me to work on and heard them talking about memory potions. She has a very distinctive voice, that Sascha." His voice took on a slightly dreamy air and Ginny bit back a grin.

"She does," she agreed. "Did you see her?" Ginny wondered if Sascha had been dressed as Sally.

Copernicus shook his head. "I didn't go into Kane's office when I heard he had a visitor," he said, coloring slightly. He frowned. "Actually, I forgot to give him these." From the pocket of his robes, he pulled out a sheaf of parchments and enlarged them until Ginny could see they depicted the towns and villages of most of England. They looked similar to the maps on Robards' office wall, but these seemed to have many more glowing areas. Ginny remembered what the head Auror had said, that but for Harry's work the previous year, there would have been quite a few more pockets of Dark activity around. She frowned.

"What are the glowing areas? Wizarding families that home school their children?" That would make sense; there were likely many more families that homeschool their children than there were families that practiced Dark magic. But Copernicus shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said. "At least, Kane didn't say anything about schooling. He said they were locations that needed to be checked for Dark activity. . . or did he say rechecked?" Copernicus shook his head again. "I don't exactly remember. I just checked the glowing areas against a list of families Kane gave me. Added a few more spots too."

"Do you have the list?" asked Ginny. She wondered how many of the places overlapped with where Harry'd visited last year, and how many he remembered. They couldn't all have harbored evil, so it was likely only some would be memorable.

"It disintegrated when I was finished," he said. "Kane only needs the map." He tapped it with his wand to shrink it. "I'd better drop it off before I go home," he said. "It was supposed to be to him this morning."

Ginny bit back the urge to tell Copernicus not to mention to anyone that she'd had so many questions; somehow she suspected that Kane wouldn't approve of this conversation. Instead, she returned Cop's nod of goodbye and didn't say anything while he turned on the spot and disappeared. After a moment, Ginny Disapparated too, arriving at her building's back entrance and stopping by her own flat just long enough to shrug off her work clothes and put on something more comfortable. Now she was sitting with Ron and Hermione in Ron and Harry's flat, trying not to be cross over the way the other two were cuddling together on the sofa. To their credit, they were both more focused on Ginny's information than each other. Still, she was feeling Harry's absence rather more than she expected. Whether it was because she wanted his insight about Sascha and Kane or because now that they didn't have to hide she was really looking forward to moments of just _being _together, Ginny didn't care. She just wished he was there. He'd sent a Patronus once he'd settled into the hotel, but it had been perfunctory, telling her to remind Ron to get more coffee. That meant he wasn't alone in his room and Ginny shouldn't send a response. She sighed.

Hermione gave her a sympathetic glance. "I know how hard it is to be apart," she said. Ginny nodded.

"I know you do," she said. "And I really appreciate you both letting me be here when I know you'd rather have some time alone."

Ron shrugged. "True," he said. "And I'm sure we'll kick you out at some point, but first I think we need to talk about today while the memories are still fresh. Sascha stayed in her disguise the entire time, you said?"

Ginny nodded. "She tried to make it sound like she just wanted to use the potion to dig up gossip she could sell to the papers. And that might actually be partly true. I bet she feeds information to her sister Zoya all the time."

"Kane would have been better off telling you outright that Sally was Sascha," observed Hermione. She leaned forward. "Because why would he have knowledge about what a random server in a pub was doing? It makes him look suspicious to be keeping that secret."

"I'm just glad neither Harry nor I drank that drink," said Ginny with a shudder. "I don't know what other reasons Sascha had for making it, but I have no doubt she would have run to the papers if she'd found out that Harry and I had just been snogging in the alley moments earlier."

"Ugh," said Ron, covering his ears in mock annoyance. "Do I really need to hear that?"

"You said Dam talked about his childhood while he was under the potion, right?" asked Hermione before Ginny could make a snarky response to her brother. "Do we know what any of the other Arrows were talking about?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "I remember hearing the Vincenti twins saying something about the first time they did accidental magic." She grinned. "They set their kitchen on fire when their mum wouldn't give them another piece of cake after dinner one night. Fred and George did something similar, and I wondered if it was twin thing." She looked at Hermione. "Do you think that's important?"

"It might be," said Hermione. "It sounds like the potion was targeting to retrieve older memories. Or ones related to family and early magic."

"Robards and Kane are definitely interested in those sorts of things," agreed Ginny. "Actually, that's another thing I wanted to ask you about. Today, Copernicus showed me . . ."

She didn't get any further because a sudden, unearthly screech rent the air.

"What the?" said Ron, jumping to his feet. He ran over to the door, even though it wasn't clear that the sound was coming from the hallway. Ginny and Hermione grabbed their wands and spread out, each going to one of the sitting room's windows. The sound morphed into an eerie voice.

"Qu . . . qu . . . iiiiii . . . dd . . . ahhhhh. Qu . . . qu . . . iiiiii . . . ddd ahhhh."

"Someone's trying to use the password to get into the building," said Ginny sharply. "Someone not authorized to be here." She waved her wand to contact Bill, but before she could even finish, his jaguar dropped into the room.

"Stay put, I'm coming up," it said tersely. Less than thirty seconds later there was a knock at the door. Ron relaxed his stance only slightly as he spoke through the wood.

"What did you and Fleur leave under my bed the last time you were at the Burrow?" he asked brusquely. Ginny saw the back of Ron's neck turn red as he spoke. Across the room, Hermione blushed too. "Ron!" she said in a loud whisper.

There was a chuckle on the other side of the door. "A magic Snitch, and I said I'd get you one for your birthday when I thought you were ready," said Bill. Ron pulled the door open and Bill groaned. "You had to ask that in front of Ginny?" he said. He looked over at her. "You don't get one. Ever," he said.

Ginny rolled her eyes and ignored that. "Did someone break in?" she asked. Bill was acting a lot more calmly than she'd otherwise expect.

Bill shook his head. "The wards stopped them, and they Disapparated immediately," he said. "Which means they didn't get very far inside. Otherwise they'd have been caught." He shook his head. "We need to change the password; 'Quidditch' is too common and it's too easy to hear Harry say it multiple times."

Ginny looked up. "Harry? What does he have to do with it?"

Bill grimaced. "Someone tried to copy his voice and use it to get past the wards. I had reservations about using the word "Quidditch" as a password but Dam insisted. Now you're all going to have to do it my way."

Ginny felt an odd thrum of fear that was at odds with Bill's relaxed demeanor. "Someone tried to steal Harry's voice? Did he know it?" she asked. Her mind went back to the pub and potion; somehow they felt connected. "The Bellows sisters broke in last time, do you think it was one of them?"

Bill gave her an approving look. "That was our first thought too," he said.

Ginny rolled her eyes again. "You sound surprised."

Bill looked sheepish. "You've given me a lot of surprises in the past week," he said. "I'm still getting used to everything I didn't know about my baby sister." He looked around the room. "At least the twins got rid of the poster I kept hearing about." He ran his hand through his hair. "We need to re-register all your voices saying the new password; Miriam is deciding what to use now and then we'll go flat to flat."

"What's to stop someone from finding out the new one and trying to get in the building again?" asked Ron.

Bill grimaced again. "It's because the password – Quidditch – was one that Harry said a lot," he said. The spell the person used to try to impersonate his voice needed dozens of examples of him speaking, and it layered them all together." He shook his head. "We're picking something a lot tougher this time."

"So we can expect to have to save Dam from the wards at least once a week?" Ginny said dryly.

"Better that than worrying about someone breaking in," said Bill. He walked over the window and looked out. "Is this all just crazy fans wanting to get near the Arrows or something else?"

"We're not sure," said Ginny, just as Ron said "Maybe something else." The both shared a look.

"It's probably be a little of both," Ginny amended. "Those Bellows sisters, one of them writes for the Prophet and I know she wants a story. I'm just not sure what she wants from Harry yet."

"Or what that other one wants from you," added Ron.

Ginny stifled a groan when Bill looked sharply at her again. "What about you?"

Ginny shrugged. "It's nothing, I think. Just that one of the other Bellows sisters is doing some potions work for the Aurors. Shepherd Kane is working with her on some truth telling potions. He and Gawain Robards are investigating wizarding families that home school their children, to make sure they're being taught correctly and don't learn things that could get themselves into any trouble."

Bill visibly relaxed. "We keep track of homeschooling families too," he said. "With a mild ward around each property that can detect and contain any spells that go awry. I'm not surprised the Aurors have their own methods."

That all made sense to Ginny, but she couldn't help thinking she was missing something. "Do you have maps of all the warded homes?" she asked.

Bill nodded. "Yep, and any time a family decides to send their children to Hogwarts or Beauxbatons or wherever, we note that too." He looked at his watch. "I need to meet Miriam downstairs; I'll call for you all when we're ready to record your voices again. It shouldn't take too long since none of the Arrows are here right now." He wandered into the kitchen. "I'll just take some of these," he said, picking up a plate of cookies Molly had sent over. "Fleur can't get enough of them right now."

Ginny flopped on the sofa after Bill left. She wanted to talk to Harry more than ever, couldn't help but feel like he'd be able to help her untangle the threads between Sascha Bellows and the potion, the break-ins at the building, and whatever it was Shepherd Kane wanted to know about Ginny and Harry's experiences in the Chamber. She should probably throw Robards in there too, she supposed. It was possible they weren't all connected, but given that Harry and Ginny both seemed to be involved somehow in every suspicious event, she couldn't just ignore what was going on. One thing was clear though; she had to keep the Aurors from finding out that she and Harry were together, at least until she had more of an idea what all her suspicions meant. For the first time, Ginny was a little relieved the Arrows were on a road trip; maybe she could do some investigating at work without any distractions.

"I should ask Angelina not to say anything about me and Harry," she said. "At work, I mean."

"She knows," said Ron. "Mentioned it to me this morning. She's known Harry a long time." He grinned. "And she and Katie will keep Fred and George in line, not that they want to be thinking about the two of you any time soon anyway."

Ginny nodded. "That's one thing sorted then," she said.

HPHPHPHP

She didn't get to talk to Harry that night but there was a note waiting for her at the window in the morning. She wondered when he'd had time to write it – it described, in rather explicit detail, what he was doing to himself while imagining she was the one pleasuring him instead. Ginny had never considered that the written word could be so arousing; the sex books that circulated through Hogwarts had ranged from clinical to ridiculous. But Harry's scrawl across the parchment, his _I'm stroking myself, wishing I could feel your hand there instead, _had her considering for a long moment whether she had time for another shower. Ginny hadn't seen Harry so open about his physical needs other than while they were actually together addressing them, and thinking about him writing the letter to her was more arousing than she'd have thought. She idly touched a place where the ink had pooled into a blot, thinking how hard his hand must have been gripping the quill (while gripping himself with the other?), and then almost dropped the parchment in surprise as the lines of text began to unfurl. After a few seconds, they'd rearranged themselves from words describing what Harry wished Ginny was doing to him to a small, 3-D image of two inky figures touching each other over and over, like in a photograph. The detail was rough but there was no doubt what the Ginny figure was doing as she knelt in front of the Harry image, pressing her face to the space between his legs before pulling back to stand up and start over again.

With the greatest of effort, Ginny touched her wand to the parchment and watched as the figures dissolved back into flat words. Her entire body was tingling as she carefully rolled up Harry's note and sealed it before placing it on her bedside table to examine more closely that night. She was going to have to learn that charm before she responded to the letter.

HPHPHPHP

News of the near break-in was the main topic of conversation among the trainees that day. At first, that put Ginny on edge, listening to everyone discus and debate what spell someone might have used to get past Bill Weasley's excellent wards. But most of the talk steered away from Harry, apart from the fact that he was one of the Arrows players that was the likely target of a rabid fan's charm gone wrong. She encouraged any theories that moved in that direction, agreeing wholeheartedly with Parvati that yes, some of those fan-witches would really stop at nothing for an autograph and sidestepping Ernie's musings about whether Harry might have been able to catch the intruder, had he been home. Most importantly, Angelina had obviously kept her mouth shut about the revelation at the Burrow – not that Ginny had expected anything else. But given the way her morning had started, Ginny didn't think she would have been able to handle any sort of discussion about Harry without giving something away.

Ginny's mood was further buoyed by the fact that Shepard Kane was apparently out on assignment and Robards was busy with administrative matters. Ginny managed to steal time during their lunch break to speak to Camilla alone, again on the pretext of getting her nephew tickets to an upcoming Quidditch match. The ruse required Ginny to speak about Harry again, but her greater interest in telling the senior Auror about Sascha and the pub kept a lid on her libido – mostly.

"Kane has always been fascinated by what you and Harry experienced in the Chamber of Secrets," Camilla said when Ginny finished describing her Floo call with Sascha/Sally. "As I know you already know."

Ginny frowned. "He's never made a secret of it," she agreed, "but I still don't know exactly why." She shook her head to herself. "Or how that relates to the truth potion Sascha wanted us to drink."

"It wasn't exactly a truth potion," said Camilla thoughtfully. "At least, not in the manner of Veritaserum." She frowned slightly, thinking. "You said that anyone who took it was more open and forthcoming about personal things, right? Especially about their youth?"

"Well, Dam talked about his childhood," said Ginny. "His mum and dad especially. And my brother made several comments about his girlfriend that I'd just as soon never remember again. I don't know exactly what the others said."

"There is something Harry knows, or understands, that Kane wants," said Camilla bluntly. "And since he won't give it up willingly, Kane thinks he can get it through you, since you were there too. If we'd been able to interview Sascha, we could have gotten more," said Camilla, half to herself. "Dammit."

"I'm not so sure," said Ginny. "It was pretty obvious that "Sally" had been carefully coached about what to say. Even if Kane hadn't been there, I think she would have stuck to her story." She took a deep breath, wondering if she should admit to Camilla that she might be able to find out on her own more about what Harry's relationship with Kane had been. The urge to tell the Auror was strong , but the urge to keep Harry's privacy intact was stronger. She swallowed her confession, vowing to ask Harry if she could share their news with Camilla the next time she spoke to him.

Camilla gave her a small smile. "Shepherd Kane is not the only one adept at getting past people's most immediate memories and thoughts," she said. "My methods are more subtle, and more fair, but no less effective." She nodded to the door to her office. "I'll have to teach you sometime," she said under her breath before raising her voice. "Oh, Brogan will just love that if you can arrange it, Ginny. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, any time!" responded Ginny in the same hearty voice. "I'll have Ron talk to Harry about the details," she added, just wanting an excuse to say his name. She ran her hand through her hair. This week of the Arrows road trip was going to be torture.

HPHPHPHP

Kane was gone the following day as well and the trainees spent a thoroughly boring day in a mandatory ethics class, learning about all the ways they might be tempted to overlook illegal activity in exchange for something of value. Of the three most common offers – sex, money, and information – only information was sometimes allowed to be accepted in lieu of an arrest.

"And only if you've first gotten approval from your superior," droned a Ministry judicial officer in a dry voice. Moreover, information in exchange for sex is also strictly forbidden."

"Damn," said Lee in a loud whisper. Everyone laughed while their lecturer gave Lee a dour look.

"You might think this is funny now," he said. "But new Aurors don't make a lot of money when you're out in the field facing a wealthy dark wizard offering to give you enough gold to pay your rent for a year, you'll need to remember these rules."

Everyone quieted down at the thought of a pile of gold enough to pay a year's rent. Ginny was reminded suddenly that it was only thanks to Harry letting Ron live with him for free that she was able to afford her own flat at all. Now the thought made her warm, not irritated as it once had. If not for Harry's generosity, she'd probably still be living at the Burrow and she'd probably still think of Harry as an annoyance, if she thought of him at all.

Ginny was thinking about Harry quite a bit as she walked home. This road trip had been busier than usual, with press junkets and intense training sessions. Add to that Harry's rooming with Adam Ramsey, and Ginny had barely spoken to him. She hadn't even dared send him a return letter to match his, lest it get intercepted, and wanking by herself in bed was getting rather tiresome.

"Three more days," she muttered to herself as she let herself into her flat, and squeaked at the sight of Harry's Patronus, standing patiently by the window as if he'd been there all afternoon waiting for her.

As soon as she closed her door, the stag began to speak.

"I snuck out, don't tell your brother or Hermione," it said. "Dam thinks I'm in bed sick but I'm really in Muggle London, in Picadilly. Restaurant called the Wolseley. Meet me there at half-six, please. If you can't, well . . . you must. Just please be here soon. Please." The stag faded away but Ginny didn't see it because she was too busy pulling off her clothing and trying to find something appropriately Muggle to wear. Thankful that she'd showered that morning and that their boring workday meant she wasn't at all sweaty or tired, Ginny managed to get out of her flat and to the Apprarition point in less than ten minutes. After thinking to herself about Picadilly and the closest place to the area that she could arrive, she shut her eyes and thought mostly of Harry.

The alley Ginny arrived in was only a half block from the restaurant. The Wolseley was in the style of a rather grand café, and from the front, Ginny wondered at Harry's plan. But inside was full of tables and counters and bustling waiters and a general din that assured their anonymity. Plus, it smelled delicious.

Ginny located Harry almost immediately. He was sitting at a small table in a corner next to a potted plant studying the menu intently through his glasses. Ginny's heart gave a little leap at the sight of him; the feeling was followed almost immediately with a shot of heat lower down. She shivered. Suddenly, eating seemed to be rather a waste of time.

As if sensing her gaze, Harry looked up and smiled at her. His look was friendly and open at first but slowly devolved into something private. He swallowed hard before standing up and giving her a hug. Ginny couldn't help but melt against him, sighing. Harry chuckled and tightened his arms around her. "I missed you too," he said.

Ginny leaned back and looked at him. "Is there a reason we're at a Muggle restaurant? I'm not complaining, mind you, but I wondered."

"Much less chance we'll be spotted," said Harry. "Although as soon as you passed that plant, you entered a disguising ward; to anyone else in the restaurant we're both blonde and stocky." He gave her a cheeky grin. "Also, this Muggle restaurant happens to be attached to a Muggle hotel, which, I have on good authority, is very romantic and private."

"Won't Adam notice if you don't make it back to the room tonight?" asked Ginny. She sat down and picked up the menu. "Mmm, Schnitzel," she said happily.

"I may have bribed Kipling to trade for his single tonight," said Harry with a grin. "He really loves your mum's pie and I might have neglected to mention that all he needed to do was ask and she'd send him one." He took her hand. "I really needed a night alone with you," he said.

The sincerity in Harry's voice made Ginny warm. She squeezed his hand, wondering just how hungry she really was anyway.

"Yes, we're going to eat first," said Harry with a laugh. He waved over the server.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" she said.

Harry shrugged. "Because I considered skipping dinner too," he said. "But I'd rather have all your attention later, and that means getting you fed now."

Ginny started to protest and then thought better of it. "You aren't wrong," she admitted.

The small table was arranged with the two place settings across from each other. After Ginny sat down, Harry moved his chair to the side adjacent to her and took her hand again. "This is worth getting an extra workout if Dam catches me," he said.

One of the images from Harry's last letter flashed through her head. "Much better than watching 'little ink Harry' try to go down on 'little ink Ginny' while they're riding a broom. Not that I minded at the time, of course." Indeed, once Ginny had stopped giggling to herself at the vision of Harry's hastily penned head trying to balance itself between Ginny's legs while circling the real Ginny's bed, she'd found that the image fueled an intense orgasm, not to mention consideration of whether they could attempt the same move for real one day.

Harry squeezed her hand. "Wait until you see the next one I have planned. I just need to figure out how to draw the kitchen at the Burrow first." He looked so earnest, Ginny could immediately picture him, lying on the bed at some far-off hotel and imagining more and more outrageous sexual fantasies to share with her. She shivered.

"I can't wait until the Arrows have a home-stretch," she said. "It's not fair to you that I can't send letters back."

"It's okay," Harry said. "You'll just have to work twice as hard tonight to make up for it."

Ginny swatted him with her napkin. "Prat," she said.

Harry looked about to say something else, but the server came and took their order, and when she left, he turned to Ginny with a completely different look on his face.

"Before I forget," he said. "And believe me, the second I get you alone in that hotel room, I'm definitely going to forget everything besides getting you out of your clothes as quickly as possible."

Ginny nodded her head in agreement. "I won't stop you," she said solemnly.

Harry grinned. "Good. But first I want to hear about the attempted break-in. Bill said you both suspect the Bellows are behind it?"

"Nice of Bill to give me credit too," said Ginny. "He's still not quite ready to admit that I'm actually a grown-up." She Ieaned back in her seat, gathering her thoughts.

"They didn't get very far into the building, which is why they didn't get caught," she said. Certain thoughts had been swirling in her head all week, and Ginny didn't think she was imagining some of the connections that might not have been as clear to the others. "But I don't think they necessarily wanted to get in. If it really was one of the Bellows, and I think it was, then they're likely to be wary. We've already caught them twice before." She took a sip of her water. "I think that whoever it was wanted to see how far they could get before the wards triggered. And they want to try to figure out a way to get farther next time."

Harry looked sharply at her. "Did you tell Bill that? He was pretty confident that the intruder just had really good reflexes and managed to pull away at the last second. Another tiny step and they'd have been caught."

"That might have been true," said Ginny. "But I don't think it was luck. I think someone – probably Shepherd Kane – helped whatever Bellows sister it was. My bet is on Sascha." She knew she wasn't making total sense; she and Harry hadn't even had the chance to talk about Ginny's interview with Sascha and how Kane had interfered, or what Ginny and Camilla had discussed about the potion. Still, she wasn't prepared for Harry's forehead to wrinkle in confusion as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Don't you mean Robards?" he asked. "He's the one directing the search for Dark activity. Kane was in charge of . . . umm . . . other things." Harry rubbed his forehead. "School or something."

Ginny felt a swoop of dread in her stomach. She wished Hermione was there. Carefully, she nodded her head. "Robards keeps track of families that homeschool their children," she said. "The Aurors work with the cursebreakers on it, actually. Bill said they ward those homes so they can detect if anything dangerous happens – intentional or not."

Harry face cleared. "Right, it's a requirement of being allowed to homeschool," he said. "It was one of the things Robards had me working on."

Ginny studied Harry before speaking, noting the calm on his face. She nodded. "You did other things for . . . Robards too, didn't you? He showed me a map of suspected Dark activity and said it would have been a lot more lit up if not for your help." This was the most direct Ginny had been, asking Harry about his work for the Aurors. They hadn't talked about it much since the two of them had become a couple – they always seemed to have more pressing things to discuss and do, she thought wryly to herself. When the topic had come up before that, the barriers between them had made their conversations stilted and Harry particularly guarded. She knew he'd tell her anything she wanted to know now, but her growing dread at exactly what Harry knew – and more importantly, _didn't know_ – demanded a lot of caution. She didn't know enough about memory charms yet, and Kane was very good at them.

Harry seemed oblivious to Ginny's distress. He nodded again, looking up to thank their server as she brought them their food. She gave them a slightly odd look before departing and Harry chuckled.

"Until she gets right inside the wards, we both look blonde," he said. "We'll have to remember to cast an Obscuring charm on ourselves when we leave."

"Remember," muttered Ginny. She took a deep breath before plunging on. "Do you remember doing anything for Kane? Separate from what you did for Robards?" She asked. She took a sip of wine, trying to maintain her casual demeanor. She wanted to ask him if he'd ever encountered any of the Bellows too, but she remembered Hermione telling her that when memory modification was suspected, it was best to move slowly, asking simple questions and focusing on one issue at a time.

HPHPHPHP

Harry frowned as he felt his brain go fuzzy again. This wasn't the first time Ginny had asked him about Shepherd Kane and the Aurors but it had never seemed that important before. Now he could see on Ginny's face that something was bothering her, but Harry wasn't sure what. He shook his head.

"He was working with Robards on the homeschooling, I think," he said slowly, watching as Ginny's lips tightened. "But I wasn't really involved with him. He wasn't around much, as I recall it."

"But he was at Auror headquarters, right? Did you see him there?" Ginny had leaned forward in her seat and was looking intently at him.

Harry tried to think; he sensed his answer was important. "Maybe," he said finally. "But . . . I wasn't at Auror headquarters myself much. I was in the field. I was . . . interviewing people. Mostly on my own. They uhh, they thought people might be more open about . . . things. Talking to Harry Potter." Now Harry frowned to himself. He knew why he'd left the Aurors so abruptly, and his reason was a good one. Joining the Arrows had been the right decision, and he'd kept quiet about his former position to protect his own privacy and to keep anyone from worrying about . . . something. He wanted to tell Ginny not to worry, he wanted to explain to her his reasoning, and tell her that it was a very good thing that she had taken his place because she was clearly so good at it. He hadn't told her why he'd left the Aurors earlier because they'd been _not them_. All that time Ginny had been generally irritated with him and Harry had been uncomfortable, confiding in her had been out of the question. He hadn't even really shared much with Ron and Hermione, and had never really considered the reason why. He frowned again before taking Ginny's hand in his.

"What do you know?" he asked quietly.

Ginny shook her head. "It's what I don't know," she said. She looked up at him, and her eyes were brighter than normal. "And it's what I think you don't remember." She looked down for a second and took a deep breath. "Kane told me . . . when I first joined the Aurors, I mean." She stopped and seem to re-gather her thoughts. "You know that he's asked me to try to get you to come back, right?" Her voice held a hint of nervous hope and Harry was glad to be able to reassure her.

"Yes, you said he's mentioned it several times," he said. "That there was something he could use both of us for, right? But you always told him no."

Ginny's face relaxed a fraction and she nodded. "I didn't want to push you," she said. "Especially before we were . . . when, you know."

"When you didn't really want to spend any more time with me than you absolutely had to," he said with a wry grin.

"Right," said Ginny. "And I didn't think it was right to push you, which is why I probably didn't notice as soon as I should have."

"Notice what?"

Ginny had pulled her hand out of his and was twisting her napkin. It was a nervous gesture Harry had never seen in her before. Usually he'd been the one destroying her quilts and curtains while he'd struggled over what to say. He placed his hand on top of hers and she stilled.

"He mentioned that you'd done work for him. Not just for Robards," said Ginny flatly. "Important work." She was looking at him with an almost expectant look and Harry felt a swoop of dread in his belly. He could hear what she was saying but his brain felt suddenly too muddled to understand the meaning in her words. He shook his head.

"Ginny, I'm sorry," he said finally. "But I don't . . ."

"I know," she said, and her voice took on a gentle sadness. "You don't remember. Kane did something to you and now you don't remember."

A/N: Deadwoodpecker really wanted another sexy scene and I'm sorry I couldn't deliver. It's going to get harder from here but I promise to get Harry and Ginny back in bed as soon as possible, but honestly, the story needed a little bit more plot, I think.


	30. Meddling More?

A/N: As I wrote, I wasn't sure I was pleased with the start of this chapter – it's got a lot of dialogue and that tends to be more "tell" than "show", but I think it works to move the plot along in a way it needs. And I'm quite happy with the end.

Also, I wanted to comment on a review I got, that noted the idea of Quidditch teams in England needing to take "road trips" and stay in hotels was kind of unrealistic, given the size of the country and the ease of magical transport. I'll admit it's something I've thought about too, and as far as I'm concerned, it's a plot device I need to make the story work. Although, I suppose it makes sense to keep the team all together and near the stadium where they'll be playing the following day, instead of trusting individual members to Apparate or Portkey or whatever back and forth all the time. Enjoy!

Harry stared at Ginny a beat too long for her to have believed any denial and he didn't try to give one. He shook his head. "I . . . I don't really remember working with Kane," he admitted. "I know he was there, at the Aurors, and that he and Robards talked a lot, but I didn't have any interaction with him."

"That you remember," said Ginny gently. She pursed her lips. "I don't know a lot about memory charms yet; we've just started learning the basics. I know I need to ask you questions to uncover the exact scope and breadth about what you don't remember, to try to isolate it. She tried to keep her voice even but she was certain the disappointment shone through. They would not be making love at the hotel tonight.

Harry's face reflected the same realization. "You've asked me about this before; has something changed?" Ginny heard a hopeful note in his voice that this was something that could possibly be postpone for a little while; at least until sometime post-orgasm. She paused.

The truth was, Ginny wasn't entirely sure. She'd noticed that Harry had few specific recollections about working for Kane, but until recently, she'd put down his reticence to the fact that he didn't feel comfortable sharing with her. He hadn't said much of anything to her about his time with Aurors at all when they were barely friends. It was only recently, after she and Harry were together – and Ginny had seen Kane's fascination with thought tampering first-hand – that she'd tried to pay more attention to what Harry knew. Ginny just wasn't sure if he remembered less now or if she was simply more attune to it. For a long moment she considered telling Harry that no, nothing had changed, and whatever they needed to discuss could wait. She could still feel the tingling between her legs that reminded her low long it had been since Harry had touched her, and the urge to take his hand and lead him to the private room upstairs was strong. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and she shivered. With reluctance, she nodded.

"At the least, I'm more aware of what Kane might have done now," she said. "And I'm not sure, but it's possible that your recollection has become . . . less?" She squeezed his hand. "I want to talk to Hermione, for a start. It might be nothing, but she knows a lot about memory charms. She can help me ask you the right questions and keep track of patterns in your answers." Ginny looked at Harry's face and saw only the barest hint of disappointment cross it before his features resolved into acquiescence. A moment later, he actually smiled. "You're right, of course," he said. "Proper Auror procedure would never allow for a shag when there was something that needed to be investigated." His expression grew slightly naughty. "And I have to admit, it's damn sexy to hear you talk like an Auror." He shuffled his chair closer and pushed his leg against her hers. "When this is all done, I hope you'll find the need to investigate me in private."

An image flew into Ginny's mind of her wearing nothing but her Auror's robes, straddling Harry while she asked him questions about where he'd like her to put her mouth next. She made a low sound of desire in her throat. "Yes please," she said thickly.

Harry nodded and motioned to their server. "Then I guess we'd better go back to my flat to see Ron and Hermione," he said.

"I hope we don't interrupt anything," she said dryly after Harry paid their bill and walked her out to the Apparition point.

HPHPHPHP

Harry wisely sent ahead a Patronus and Ron and Hermione were sitting together – looking somewhat disheveled but fully clothed – on the sofa when Harry and Ginny arrived. Harry had disillusioned himself to enter the lobby and take the lift, lest any of the buildings other residents see him and wonder why he was not with the rest of his team. He removed the charm and took Ginny's hand before speaking, walking them both over to sit on the loveseat.

"What happened?" burst out Hermione. "I can't imagine the team would let you leave if it wasn't important." She had a parchment and quill in front of her, Ginny saw, and she felt a rush of gratitude that Hermione and Ron had jumped right in to help, no questions asked. It shouldn't have surprised her, she realized. The two of them had been supporting Harry for a lot longer than she had, after all.

They don't know," admitted Harry. He looked sheepish for a moment. "And my original plan for sneaking off . . . well, it wouldn't have involved you two, just Ginny." He sat forward. "But yeah, something happened."

"Do I want to know what you were doing at the time?" asked Ron with a slight grimace.

"Eating dinner at a Muggle restaurant," Ginny assured her brother. This was not the time to tease. She looked at Harry. He gave her a small nod; this was her story to tell.

"I've suspected for a while now, particularly since Harry and I got together, that Kane fiddled with his memory somehow, to keep him from remembering what he did for the Aurors." Ginny spoke very fast; it sounded a little ridiculous when she said it out loud like that. Kane was one of the most senior Aurors in the Ministry, equal to Camilla Stalk and only just below Robards. There had never been a hint of suspicion about him before the War, or during or after. But neither Ron nor Hermione looked completely surprised. Indeed, the exchanged a look before Ron leaned forward.

"Do you not remember what you did at all? Or just for Kane?" he asked slowly. He looked at Hermione then. She gave him a small nod.

"It's time to tell him," she said quietly. "If Ginny's noticed too."

Harry had also leaned forward. "Yes, tell me please." He looked back and forth between the other three. "Is there something you've been holding back from me? Something wrong?" He didn't sound angry, and Ginny knew that he trusted them that much, trusted them not to keep anything from him without a good reason. He ran his hand down her back and she leaned into him while Ron gathered his thoughts.

"I don't if anything's wrong," said Ron. "But back when you kept disappearing while we were rebuilding Hogwarts, you often came back in a rather foul mood, do you remember that?"

Harry relaxed against Ginny. "Yeah, that I remember," he said. "I didn't like what I was doing for . . ." his voice trailed off and he looked confused. "I was going to say Robards, that I didn't like what Robards had me do for him, that it seemed unfair or not . . . right." He ran his hand through his hair. "But now I'm not so sure." He looked up. "What did you notice?"

"Robards and Kane and Camilla Stalk all came to Hogwarts early on in the rebuilding," said Hermione. She was speaking slowly, her eyes carefully trained on Harry, and Ginny knew she was watching him for any signs of distress. Harry nodded; this was apparently something he remembered. Hermione continued. "You told us they had some work for you to do, mopping up pockets of Dark activity," she said. "Things they thought you were particularly well-suited for."

Harry rubbed at his eyes. "It had something to do with my connection to Voldemort," he said. "And my familiarity with Muggles, having lived with them for so long." He looked up. "That was Camilla's focus, I think. "She wanted to make sure that the Death Eaters hadn't infiltrated Muggle families, whether they had wizarding children or not, and hidden magic there, to be retrieved later."

"That sounds legitimate," said Ginny.

"Harry nodded. "It is," he said. "You'd be surprised about how many Death Eaters tried to conceal their acts by hiding magical signatures, objects, and other things with Muggles. It can be incredibly dangerous for the Dark Magic to be among non-magical people. We had a hell of time identifying and then clearing out targeted houses." Harry's voice was relaxed while he described what he'd done with Camilla, and after a second, Hermione nodded.

"Nothing concerning there," she said. "Harry, if you can, tell us what you did for Robards and Kane. But if you start to get confused or dizzy, stop and think about . . . the latest move you've been practicing in Quidditch."

Harry nodded to show he understood. "If you asked me . . . I mean, you have asked me before, right?" He started over. "_When_ you asked me about what I did for the Aurors, I usually lumped Robards and Kane together, right?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, or else you . . ."

"Or else I didn't mention Kane much at all," finished Harry. He straightened in his seat and glanced at Ginny before continuing. "I've been thinking about since dinner, since Ginny told me she didn't think I remembered working with Kane. I've been straining to figure out if that's true." When Hermione opened her mouth to speak, Harry held up his hand. "Don't worry, I'm not breaking my mind or anything," he said. "But of course, once I started focusing on what I remembered, the little bit I did started slipping away more. He turned to Ginny. "What did I say about Kane before?"

Ginny shrugged. "Just that you worked more for Robards and didn't really interact with Kane, even though they were involved in the same general things," she said. "If Kane hadn't mentioned to me more than once that you'd done some tasks for him, and suggested that he wanted me to recruit you back to the Aurors so that you and I could . . . I don't know . . . complete whatever you'd started, I might not have noticed that you didn't seem to remember working for him." Ginny watched Harry carefully for any sign that the discussion was upsetting him, but if anything, he seemed almost fascinated. "This is interesting to you, isn't it?"

Harry gave her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well . . . some of it, some of the investigating, I mean. I like it. I like fighting Dark Magic. I just didn't like . . ." he shook his head. "I didn't like something," he said finally. "I guess finding out what that _something _is is why we're here, right?" He squeezed Ginny's hand.

"We noticed that you were more vague than usual, when you came back from the Aurors." Hermione took up the story again. "Sometimes you told us specific details, like what you were doing for Camilla, or even that you were investigating homeschooled young wizards. But other times you were very closed off."

"It took us a long time to think that maybe it was something having to do with _whom_ you were working for, that you talked plenty about Camilla, and sometimes about Robards, but almost never about Kane."

"Sometimes you seemed more suspicious of Robards than others," inserted Ginny. She frowned. "I wondered sometimes why you were okay with Ron and I joining the Aurors, if it was so bad that you'd quit. But then you'd seem to relax, and I'd think you just didn't like the attention, since you weren't part of a training class and you were, you know, you." She snuggled more closely into him. "I didn't know you well then."

Harry was shaking his head. "I wouldn't have let either you or Ron join the Aurors if I thought there was something really wrong there," he said. "Or Angelina or Lee or anyone else I knew." He looked up at Hermione. "Do you think Kane pulled something really big out of my memory? Could he do that without me noticing?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think it was anything too big," she said. "Just very specific. You'd be in physical pain or a lot more confused if he'd taken anything significant. You've been about the same all year; you clearly aren't forgetting more." Ginny didn't miss the look of relief on Harry's face. She kissed him softly on the cheek. "We'll figure it out; I'll ask Camilla. I think she knows more than she's letting on."

"I bet it has to do with Ginny," Ron said suddenly. "Kane's been on her back since the start about getting them together. Maybe he didn't want Harry to remember what he was doing for Kane because it would, I don't know, taint whatever he was to do with Ginny."

"That's not a bad guess," said Harry.

"Except for the fact that I've so far completely refused to include Harry in anything Kane's suggested," said Ginny. "I don't even know what it is Kane wants, other than some vague relation to the Chamber." She frowned. "Is it odd that he hasn't even told me what he wants with me and Harry?"

"It's part of those investigation techniques we've learned," said Ron knowingly. "Remember? When you want something from someone, or information, don't tell them too much. If they are curious, they're likely to tell you what you want to know."

"Well, I'm just as happy not being curious," said Ginny flatly. "Not if it involves the reason that Kane took one of Harry's memories." A thought struck her. "He couldn't have used a Pensieve, could he? Those memories are usually just copies; we keep the originals in our brains."

"That's right," said Hermione. "There are ways to remove enough of a memory that it can be difficult to recall, but it's a personal charm you have to perform on yourself." She grinned. "Witch Weekly had an entire article about how to 'truly forget the one who broke your heart' a couple of months ago."

Ginny grinned back. "Since when do you read Witch Weekly?" she teased.

"It was purely work related," said Hermione indignantly. "Although, that particular volume had a sex quiz that Ron and I . . . "

"Don't tell me!" cried Harry. He put his hands over his ears. "We really don't want to know."

It broke the tension and they all chuckled. "And we really didn't want to know about that poster, and yet, here we are," said Ron.

Harry threw a pillow at him. "I swear, neither you nor Hermione ever need to see that poster again," he said solemnly." He put his hand lightly on Ginny's leg and she felt the unspoken spoken promise that the poster might yet make another appearance in her own life. She shivered and Harry's hand moved up a little bit.

But then he sighed. "Since I'm not –" he glanced at Ginny. "I mean, what do we do now? Tell someone?"

"And what would we say?" asked Ginny. "Other than Kane mentioning to me that Harry did some work with him, I don't know who else knows anything. How would we explain that we just happened to decide that Kane tampered with Harry's memories about what he did for the Aurors almost a year ago?"

"We don't have enough to go on," said Ron decisively. "We need to further our investigation before going higher up with our suspicions."

He sounded so much like he was quoting their training manual that Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "Glad to see you're paying attention, Ron." She took Harry's hand again. "I don't want to say anything to Robards, but I'll see what I can learn from Camilla." She looked around. "And what about Kingsley?"

"If we have to, yes," said Harry. "But he's been so busy trying to fix the rest of the Ministry he ceded more control over the Auror Department than I think he wanted to. I'd rather not bother him unless it's really needed."

Ginny nodded. "Okay then. We all keep mostly quiet. Harry goes back to finish his road trip, Ron and I go back to work and I try to talk to Camilla and Hermione . . .?"

"I do some research on targeted memory charms," she said with a nod.

"My guess is that it ends up being much less of a big deal than we think," said Ginny with a bit more confidence than she felt. "Kane's overly curious and likes to be in control, but I think his commitment to fighting Dark Magic is legitimate. He seems to like to use minor memory charms and Legilimency and things like that to try to stay on top of what's going on without having to take the time to get to know people. Easier to pluck thoughts out of their heads and then hide anything he doesn't want them asking too many questions about."

"That actually sounds like what I've heard about him," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I've heard him described as impatient before – willing to take shortcuts to get things done – even if they aren't completely on the up and up. But nothing really unlawful."

Ginny nodded, feeling better. "That sounds like him," she said. "I'll try to lay low this week at work; hopefully he won't be around much."

Harry kissed her rather thoroughly goodbye after that, and when he was done, Ginny was tingling all over. She briefly considered inviting him back to her flat after all, but it was now very late and she knew he had an early training in the morning before a game against Tutshill later that night.

"I'll be listening on the wireless," she said between kisses. Harry pressed himself up against her and stood silently for a minute, his breathing ragged. For a moment, Ginny thought he was going to say something, but then he just sighed quietly and moved away. "I like knowing you're listening," he said.

Ron gave an enormous yawn. "I'll need to make a double batch of coffee to get through tomorrow," he said. He nudged his girlfriend. "Did I remember to buy more?"

"There's a bag at my flat," said Hermione. "But not here."

"Bugger," said Ron. "I'll have to remember to buy more."

Hermione kissed him. "Let's sleep at my place until then," she said.

HPHPHPHP

Going back to work was more complicated than Ginny expected. She tried to lay low, particularly because Shepherd Kane was back from whatever field investigation that had taken his time the week before, and the man was, unfortunately, in charge of their instruction that week. They were a continuation of the unit on investigation techniques, and Ginny wondered curiously if Kane was going to teach them some of the mind-related charms he knew. At first, that didn't seem to be the case. Kane's lectures were informative, but rather bland. Ginny kept her head down taking notes as much as possible but couldn't get over the feeling that the man was watching her more than everyone else.

"Don't underestimate the power of small talk," he said on the third day. "Especially with Muggles or those who are . . . less educated or aware of their magical power." Kane began walking up and down the aisles of the classroom. "Or if you suspect that your interview subject may be hiding something." He stopped right next to Ginny and she forced herself not to look up. "Creating an atmosphere of comfort and ease can be nearly as effective as . . . other means of gleaning information."

Ginny kept writing notes, very aware of Ron in the desk next to her. Kane continued talking.

"And of course, you need to be sensitive to your subject's mood and behavior," he said. "It's too easy, especially for new Aurors, for an interview to go pear-shaped from just one misplaced or thoughtless question." Kane paused for a long moment. "If that happens, there are things that can be done to fix the situation, but only with the oversight of a more senior Auror."

Ginny held her breath, wondering if Kane would say more, or suggest what such _things_ might be.

"We don't expect you to need to know those methods any time soon, if ever," he continued genially. "But it's good to have certain charms in your arsenal of knowledge as you go forward into the fight against Dark Magic."

And just like that, with Kane's mentioning _Arsenal, _Ginny's mind leapt away to the stadium where she knew Harry was just then. He was finally coming home tonight, and he'd probably be in his practice uniform when Ginny saw him. The uniform that said Arsenal across the front and Potter on the back. The one that was a little more worn and snug than his official uniform, that Ginny could pull over his head without much work, tossing on the floor of her flat so that she could run her hands up Harry's chest. He'd pull her in for a kiss – sweat and dirt be damned – and she'd melt into him . . ."

". . . here with us, Miss Weasley?" Kane was suddenly very close.

Ginny shook her head, the image of Harry disappearing quickly. She looked up at her boss. "I'm sorry," she said. "I umm . . . I got dizzy for a moment."

Kane gave her a quick, calculating look. "Do you need the infirmary?" he asked. Ginny shook her head.

"No sir, it's passed," she said. "I umm, missed my coffee this morning."

"Ahh yes, your coffee," said Kane with a chuckle. "Mr. Weasley's talent has become rather legendary around the office, I must say." He looked at Ron. "Running late this morning?"

Ron shook his head. "No sir. Ran out of beans. I've been making it for more people at the office lately."

"Including my assistant," said Kane dryly. "She's much more efficient after her coffee." He waved his wand and mumbled an Accio and a package wrapped in familiar brown paper from Diagon Alley Coffee Roasters floated into the room. "You use the wizard-grown Costa Rican beans, right?" He tossed the package to Ron, who caught it neatly.

"Umm, yes sir, thank you," said Ron. He looked up. "I'll be sure to make enough for everyone on Monday."

"We all appreciate it," said Kane. He looked at his watch. "I suppose we can get an early start on the weekend; I daresay some of you might have important plans." He smiled. "I'll see you all on Monday, and with no excuses to be late, since Mr. Weasley will be bringing us all coffee."

HPHPHPH

Ginny didn't have to wonder for long when she was going to get to see Harry; she'd barely opened to door to her flat when a hand reached out and pulled her inside. She was in Harry's arms before she fully realized what was happening, melting into him a moment later.

"It's a good thing only three people are cleared to get into my flat," she mumbled against his neck. He'd showered after his practice, and the worn jersey she'd envisioned at work had been replaced by a fitted t-shirt instead. "And neither my mum nor Ron would have been so forward with me."

Harry chuckled. "I'd hope not," he said. The hands at her waist got more insistent. "I seem to remember you promising me some private investigating and I expect you to follow through with a thorough examination. I mean it," he continued in a stern voice. "I expect to be put through the wringer."

"So that's what they're calling it now, the wringer?" joked Ginny. Just having Harry here, finally, helped dim the stress and uncertainty of the past week. She was relieved that he too seemed to want only the physical right now. She'd been thinking and analyzing Kane's behavior whenever she was away from the Ministry, and that, combined with interacting with the real thing at work, had become exhausting. Truly, Ginny didn't want to think about anything tonight except having the kind of sex with Harry that would seriously test the strength of their silencing charms – and the construction of her bed.

"I want you to fuck me, hard," she said bluntly, and watched with satisfaction as Harry's eyes grew first wide with surprise and then smoky and intense. Ginny felt his body react in agreement, and before she knew what was happening, Harry had scooped her into his arms and carried her over to her bed. He laid her down without a word and then, still not speaking, pulled off his clothes and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. He looked at her, an expectant look in his eyes, until Ginny quickly stripped too.

HPHPHP

Harry hadn't touched himself, waiting for Ginny to get back to her flat, but her demand for sex was enough to arouse him as if he'd been wanking for a while already. He could see the tension in the way she held herself, and knew this week had been more worrisome than she'd let on. But in her flat at that moment, their unspoken agreement to put everything else aside took over. He wasn't rough, but assertive as he climbed on top of Ginny and nudged her legs open with his knee. "How quickly can I get you wet, d'you think?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he moved lower, teasing Ginny open with both fingers and tongue. She bent her knees and bucked her hips against Harry's mouth with a groan, and he looked up at her in satisfaction.

"Pretty damn fast, I guess," he said.

"Harry, I'll let you have all the foreplay you want later," panted Ginny. "I'll give you a dozen blowjobs, let you help me touch myself, shower with you, whatever you want." She put her hands on his bum and pulled him up so their faces met. "But right now I want. You. Inside. Me." Ginny punctuated her words with small thrusts, finally grabbing Harry by the hips and guiding him where she wanted.

Harry didn't protest, letting himself sink as deeply into Ginny as he could. It didn't take long to find their rhythm together; even though they had not made love many times yet, they already knew each other's bodies and needs. Harry slipped his hands under Ginny's back and lifted her to him, recognizing the particular sound of pleasure she made as he rubbed against a sensitive spot. She wrapped her arms around his neck and for a long minute they pulsed together almost as one. Harry wasn't aware of anything other than the feel of Ginny's skin, connecting to him in dozens of places and the look in her eyes when he opened his and found her watching him. That was all it took, and Harry came a second later, hearing Ginny swear an oath as she followed him. When they'd both caught their breath she smiled at him.

"I'll let you take things more slowly once we're ready to go again," she said. "But this is exactly what I needed right now."

Harry nuzzled his head into Ginny's neck. "Me too," he said. "I just didn't realize it at first." He chuckled. "I'm planning to be rather useless to Dam at our early practice tomorrow," he said. "Before the Wimbourne game in the evening. We haven't played at our home stadium in 10 days; it will be nice to be back."

Ginny looked at him. "I don't want you to be too tired to play," she said. "We don't have to . . . I mean, I can wait until later, if you want to sleep now." She looked earnestly at him and Harry knew that she'd absolutely curl up and go to sleep if that was what he asked for. He shook his head. "You promised me foreplay and a dozen blowjobs, if I remember correctly," he said. "And I intend to collect." He sighed. "But, do you mind if we finish this in my flat? I actually do need to make sure my kit is sent ahead to the stadium for cleaning. I might have . . . been a little too eager to get here to make sure it was done properly before."

Ginny laughed. "Let's just hope Ron and Hermione set a silencing charm."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny was vaguely aware of Harry waking up to the soft trilling of his alarm before the sun had even come up. "Sorry I kept you up so late," she mumbled tiredly, rolling over under the warm blankets. It was nice to be the one able to have a lie-in for once.

"No you aren't, and neither am I" said Harry with a grin. "I enjoyed last night much more than if I had been sleeping the entire time. Besides, I ran into Ron in the kitchen after . . . I think it was after our second time? He had the same idea for biscuits that we did. Said he'd get up and make me coffee before I had to face Dam and the rest of the team; I guess he and Hermione are going off for a day's holiday and want to get an early start." He reached down and straightened the blankets around Ginny before leaning in for a kiss. "I'll make sure to leave you some too."

Ginny kissed Harry back with an intensity that belied the fact she was planning to curl up and go back to sleep once Harry was gone. He let her pull him halfway onto the bed, and one of his hands had slipped under the covers to find her waist before the alarm rang again. Reluctantly, Harry pulled back. "I'll be back tonight and we can continue this," he promised. His eyes gleamed. "When you listen to the game tonight, wait to hear the announcement that I'm doing the Filage Loop seeking maneuver. That will be my sign that I'm thinking about you."

Ginny pulled Harry in for a final kiss. "That's the spinning one, right? Just make sure the move fits into your game strategy."

Harry laughed. "That's one of the things I love about you; thinking about the good of the team over romance." He kissed her back. "I'll make it work, I promise."

And then Harry was gone and Ginny did sleep, but not for as long as she wanted. Somehow, her body knew Harry wasn't there in his bed next to her and she had trouble with feeling restless. It was much earlier than she would have liked when she finally got up and pulled a sweatshirt of Harry's on over her pajamas on her way to the kitchen for the promised coffee before going back to her own flat. Maybe she'd have better luck falling back asleep there, she thought.

The warming charm on the pot was still active, but only a few drops of coffee waited for Ginny when she went to pour some in her mug. She frowned to herself. Ron usually made enough for at least four of them to drink but he must have assumed Ginny wouldn't need any since she wasn't getting up early. Well, at least it wouldn't keep her awake and prevent her next nap. Deciding that Harry's sweatshirt was long enough to cover all her most important bits, she lowered the lights in the flat and left, walking down the hallway to her own before curling up on her sofa with a book. It was a cloudy day and the room was dim, and before too long, Ginny had fallen back asleep. Her dreams, not surprisingly, turned towards Harry.

_He was between her legs, having let himself back into her flat. He made no mention of needing to be at the stadium. "Cozy sweatshirt?" he asked with a smirk. "You should keep it on; everything I need right now is below your waist."_

Ginny didn't remember much more of the dream when she woke up later, just that it had been very, very nice. With no one around she took some time to catch up on reading for work and did several loads of laundry. She still couldn't bring herself to get terribly invested in the deep clean her mum kept hinting at though. After restocking her cupboards and icebox at the market, she knocked on Ron and Harry's door late in the afternoon. Hermione answered, looking windswept and happy.

"Nice day, then?" asked Ginny, accepting a butterbeer from Ron before sitting down near the wireless.

"Oh, it was lovely," she said. "We took a Portkey south and set up a picnic near some ruins I've been wanting to see – the ancient wizards had quite a different organizational structure for their legal buildings, and I thought it was fascinating." She spoke very quickly, her eyes sparkling.

Ginny grinned. "And how did my brother like it?"

Hermione waved her hand airily. "I brought a lot of food," she confessed. "He was perfectly happy."

"I liked the ruins too," said Ron defensively. "The jail cells were located in subterranean rooms right below the main courtrooms. When a prisoner was found guilty they were just dropped right though the floor, never to see daylight again. Sometimes they didn't even get a trial first."

"Sounds lovely," said Ginny dryly. She thought of what Harry had told her of his experience in Courtroom Ten. "I'm glad to hear we've become slightly more refined since then."

Hermione opened her mouth, probably to explain exactly how much more work there was to do to reform the wizarding legal system when Ron hissed at them to be quiet. "It's starting!" he said, turning the dials on the wireless.

Ginny tried to ignore the fact that both Ron and Hermione gave her knowing smiles as soon as Harry's name was announced, but after a moment, she had to grin too. "It's even more fun to listen to now," she admitted. She didn't tell them about Harry's promise to send her a secret message; Ron at least would not be able to keep that kind of thing quiet to her family.

It was a close game, with the score moving back and forth and the announcers saying Harry's name often enough that Ginny found herself in a sort of constant state of minor arousal. It was only when one of them yelled in excitement that Harry'd caught the Snitch, winning the game for the Arrows, that she realized he'd not been able to work the Filage Loop into his playing after all.

_At least he hadn't broken his neck or anything, trying to send me a message. _It would have been cute, but Ginny was glad to see Harry still put his responsibility to the team ahead of her. She stood up and stretched, wondering how long it would be until Harry made it back from the stadium and whether he'd come to his flat or hers. A moment later, she had her answer, as Harry's Patronus cantered in through the wall. From the noise in the background, it sounded like the team was in full celebratory mood.

"Ron, you gotta get over here – they're pulling out those new brands of Firewhiskey I was telling you about – you've got to come sample some!" The noise got louder for a moment and then the stag spoke again. "We're going to be at the Bread and Barley; give them your name and they'll let you in the VIP section. Bring Hermione if you want, even though I know she doesn't like whiskey that much. Oh, and Ginny too, if she cares to come hang out with smelly Quidditch players. Just get your arse here soon!" The stag faded away and Ron and Hermione turned to look at Ginny, confusion in their eyes.

"I . . . I don't know," she said.


	31. WTF Just Happened?

A/N: I'm so sorry to have disappeared for so long. I was on vacation and dealing with life, not necessarily in that order. This chapter is very short because I wanted to get something posted before everyone forgot completely about this story (including me). The next will be a lot longer and hopefully it won't be another couple weeks before I post.

The three of them stared at each other another long moment.

"Maybe . . . it's a joke?" asked Hermione weakly just as Ginny rounded on her. "I thought you said it wasn't getting stronger!" She shook her head. "It's not a joke; Harry wouldn't joke about something like that, not now that he knows what Kane did to him." Just saying his name felt awkward in Ginny's mouth.

Ron had his wand out and was walking in circles around the spot where Harry's Patronus had been. After a moment, he shook his head. "I don't detect any foul play with the sending," he said. It must be something . . . with Harry himself. He looked at Ginny. "How was he uhh, last night?" A blush climbed up Ron's neck but his eyes were serious. Ginny's panic overrode any embarrassment.

"He was completely normal," she said quickly. "We . . . you know. Nothing suspicious." She looked back and forth between Hermione and Ron. "So I didn't imagine that he sounded . . . different?" It was the last grasp at normalcy Ginny could think of, and she wasn't at all surprised when both of them shook their heads. She'd known something was off the second Harry's Patronus had begun to speak.

"He didn't get hit or anything during the game, did he?" Hermione was clearing trying to come up with a logical explanation too. "The announcers would have said something, right?"

Before Ron could answer, Ginny remembered something. "He was going to do a special move but he didn't," she said. "As a sort of private 'hello' to me. The . . . Filage Loop. That's what he called it." The pit in her stomach grew heavier; she'd actually assumed Harry just hadn't been able to work the move into the game. Now the omission seemed much more sinister than tactical.

Ron nodded knowingly. "Harry's one of the few Seekers in the league who's really good at it," he said. "It's tricky, but effective."

"So it's a move he'd have to make a conscious decision to do," said Ginny flatly. She knew Harry wouldn't have just forgotten about his promise, no matter how wrapped up in the game he'd been. And despite her joke to him earlier that he shouldn't put her before the chance to win the game, Ginny had _known_ Harry would find a way to work the move in, to let her know that he was thinking about her in a way that was very private, despite being completely public. She only now realized how much she'd been looking forward to it – to hearing the announcer cry out "And Potter executes a perfect Filage Loop – what a move!" – and the warmth that would follow as she imagined Harry smiling to himself as he thought of her. She forced her thoughts back to more pressing matters.

"That meant it happened before the game, or possibly during," she said. "But most likely before." She frowned to herself. She now knew there at least a dozen ways to tamper with someone's memory that didn't require the bluntness of Obliviate. Most were more subtle and targeted, which made them harder to detect – and break. Someone could have charmed the socks he wore with his uniform or put a spell on his locker that activated when he touched it. Or there still could have been mindwork involved; Ginny remembered hearing stories about how Quirrel had tried to knock Harry off his broom during a match his first year. Ron and Hermione had thought it was Snape; nevertheless, Ginny had no doubt that a talented wizard could send a memory charm directly at a sole Quidditch player over a long distance. She wrung her hands, angry at herself. She should have said something more to Camilla; should have found some time to get the witch really alone to talk about her suspicions about Kane. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything, but it was clear to Ginny that Camilla knew more about what Kane (and maybe Robards) wanted with her and Harry. It had been stupid of her to hold back, and she said so to her brother and Hermione. But he shook his head.

"Maybe it's a good thing," Ron said. "I know you trust Camilla, and I do too, but we don't know enough about what's going on yet, and until we do, I think we should keep quiet." Next to him, Hermione was nodding.

"How?" asked Ginny. "People are going to notice that Harry's . . . off." She couldn't bring herself to describe it any more specifically.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly. "It depends on exactly what's been done to him." She looked distressed. "And if someone says something he doesn't remember, it could get . . . messy."

Ginny jumped up. "Messy how? Let's go then. We need to get him out of there, out of the bar. Before something . . . happens." She started pacing. Getting to Harry was the only way to fix this and it suddenly felt unbearable to wait a moment longer. She tried not to glare at Ron and Hermione, urging thme on with her eyes. A thought struck her.

"Maybe it's a prank?" she said hesitantly. "Like, the twins wanting to get back at us for the poster?" It was a stretch, she knew; somehow, Ginny was certain that something darker was at work than one of Fred and George's products. Still, she couldn't help but give Hermione a hopeful look. "Something that breaks the second he sees me?"

"Maybe," said Hermione slowly. Ginny could tell Hermione didn't quite believe it either. "I think you should probably come with us to the bar, but . . ." she trailed off.

"But what?" asked Ginny. "Of course I'm coming with you to the bar! Why wouldn't I?" She stared impatiently at the couple, who both seemed oddly hesitant to answer her, and more disconcertingly, seemed to be having a silent conversation with each other."

Ginny took a deep breath. She was acting like a child, not an Auror. It was regularly drilled into them at training about how difficult it could be to separate personal feelings from work and the trainees were constantly reminded to "let someone know immediately" if they were ever given an assignment that crossed any sort of emotional line. Ginny had listened and nodded but had thought to herself that being emotionally attached to a case would be more likely to make her work harder, not distract her. But look here, ten minutes into a concern about Harry and she was already acting irrationally. "If you think I could make things worse, I'll stay back," she said quietly.

Ron gave her a sad smile. "Thanks, Ginny." He looked at his girlfriend. "What do you think?"

Hermione was quiet for a long moment. "I think it's okay," she said. "After all, Harry's message did mention Ginny and bringing her along. She'll just have to be . . . careful." She looked at Ginny. "Until we have some sort of idea what's going on," she said. "Keep quiet as much as possible. Let Harry talk to you if he wants, but don't direct the conversation yourself." She grimaced. "And if he doesn't talk to you, then . . ."

"Then I'll stay away," said Ginny, feeling the pit in her stomach grow. "What about Dam? He's the only one there who knows about Harry and m-me." She stumbled over the words.

Hermione had stood up. "And that's why we need to get to the bar," she said briskly. "Before Dam says anything that causes . . . harm." Her lips pressed together and Ginny didn't want to ask what she was thinking. She grabbed her wand and traveling cloak before heading for the door.

None of them spoke on the way to the Apparition point. Ginny's mind was swirling with a million possibilities, each worse than the last. Part of her still wanted to contact Camilla immediately; maybe this was a time sensitive matter and they were letting valuable clues slip away by not bringing in the real Aurors. But she wasn't so certain about that tactic to insist on it. Nothing – no one – felt like they could be trusted besides Ron and Hermione. Ginny didn't want to believe Camilla was dangerous, but at that moment, anything felt possible. And if there was corruption in the department that extended to the most senior Aurors, then they were going to have to get Kingsley involved too.

Ginny's musings helped her tamp down her panic. She didn't even remember taking the lift down to the lobby until the three of them were outside in the back alley. It was only after Ron reminded her of the name of the pub – the Bread and Barley – and he and Hermione disappeared with nearly identical-sounding pops that Ginny started to shake. For it had occurred to her that if what was wrong was that Harry didn't remember her – didn't remember _them_, then he could be doing anything right now. Anything with anyone. And Ginny might be about to witness it.

She shook her head and brushed angry tears out of her eyes. Now was the time to prove she was an Auror. The sooner she got to the pub, the sooner she and Ron and Hermione could get to Harry and put this all to right. For there was no other option, as far as Ginny was concerned.


	32. Reversing Remembrances

A/N: I'm going to try to post shorter chapters but more often in the next week or two; it seems to fit the way the plot is moving. Although this chapter ended up longer than I thought it would. Hope you enjoy! Also, I really appreciate all the reviews - I mean to respond to them soon, but know that they all make me think - and that includes you, Scrappy8!

Harry grinned over his mug of ale at Adam Ramsey. The Chaser's eyes were streaming tears and bright orange and black smoke was pouring out of his ears. He batted ineffectually at it and grabbed blindly at the table until Harry took pity on him and handed the man his own drink.

"I told you it was a bad idea to order something called 'Volcanic Ash,' "he said mildly, watching Adam drain his mug. "And you owe me another drink. Something that won't cause pyrotechnics, please."

Adam sputtered for a moment and then caught his breath. "Noted," he gasped. "But you need something stronger than this. It's practically water." He waved over their server. "Two Firewhiskeys please. Actually, make Harry's a double. The good stuff; he's entirely too sober."

Harry appreciated that the server waited for his nod of approval of the order before heading back to the bar. He wasn't planning to get completely pissed, but some relaxation was definitely in order. The match today had been tough, and their victory hard won. It was nice to end their road trip on a high note and even nicer to know that he'd be sleeping in his own flat that night. Adam seemed to guess what was on his mind.

"Admit it, you're going to miss having me as a roommate," he said with a grin. An errant puff of smoke floated out of one ear and he started coughing. Harry grinned back.

"You snore like the Hogwarts Express, mate," he said. "Even with a silencing charm. Trust me, I'm quite thrilled to have a room all to myself tonight."

"Completely to yourself, Potter?" Dam was suddenly there at the table. He plopped down into a chair, a smirk on his face. "I find that rather hard to believe." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Harry laughed. "It's not my hazing night, Clarke. I don't have anything to prove anymore." He waved his wand and Dam's nearly full glass of Firewhiskey floated across the table. Harry plucked it out of the air and downed it in one go. "Delicious," he said, smacking his lips.

"Hmmpf," said Dam. He looked around the bar. "When's Ginny getting here?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know if she is. Ron should be coming though; I sent him a Patronus. Hopefully he'll convince Hermione to come with him." He grinned. "Ron's loosened her up a lot, but she can always use a bit more." He watched the server coming towards their table, two drinks floating carefully in front of her. Dam gave her a small nod and she waved her wand, turning the two drinks into four. He looked at his captain. "Mine was already a double," he said. "Just how drunk do you want me to get? Or are those both for you?"

"We'll share," said Dam amiably. "I wouldn't want you to get so pissed you're a, ahem, disappointment later." He gestured rather purposefully at Harry's waist.

"Aww, Dam, I didn't know you were expecting that kind of night," Harry teased. He'd become a lot more comfortable bantering with the team in the past few weeks. Some of the extra attention from being _Harry Potter_ had died down and it seemed that even the craziness of those Bellows sisters continually trying to sneak into the building was being managed. Ron and Ginny were keeping on top of things there so the team didn't have to worry, and Harry was grateful. He should probably thank Ginny at some point, he mused. Ron didn't need to hear it, he knew, but Ginny'd probably get offended or something, if Harry didn't acknowledge all the work she was doing to protect the building. The server arrived at their table and he grabbed the new drink out of the air, frowning to himself for a moment as a thought floated just at the edge of his consciousness. Something else he needed to do, besides thank Ginny.

Dam snorted, and the thought evaporated. "You're not my type, Potter," he said, slapping Harry a bit too hard on the back. "But it's been a long road trip. I thought you'd want to be in top form for . . ." he trailed off, glancing quickly at Adam and the server before dropping his voice. "For your company later." He made another suggestive gesture.

Harry sighed. The man never gave up. He gave the server an apologetic smile. "Please excuse my friend. It usually takes several more drinks to get him to this state. I promise, I'm only here for a couple of pints with my mates. I'll behave."

The server smiled and leaned over their table, handing Dam and Adam their whiskey. "Ahh, I don't mind, I'm used to it," she said. She pointed to the fourth drink she'd brought over. "Now, who gets this one?"

Harry raised his glass. "You have it," he said with a grin. "Count of three, we'll all do a shot."

"As long as you're paying for it," said the server with a laugh.

Harry'd forgotten Adam had ordered him a double. The warmth spread though him more quickly than usual and he blew out a puff of smoke, managing to stifle the urge to cough. The server was handling her shot well too, Harry noticed, although Adam's ears seemed to be burning again. He leaned towards the woman. "Clearly, some of us hold our whiskey better than others," he said. "Now Dam here, he's taught me almost everything I know. About drinking and witches, at least." He turned towards Dam. "Isn't that right? You've certainly hazed me enough at least." He smiled at the server again. "Come on, admit it. Who has Dam asked you to bring a drink to, pretending it's from me? I want to be prepared when a strange witch throws herself into my lap." He nudged Dam. "I'm onto you, you know."

Dam gave him an odd look and Harry wondered if he was actually more drunk than he'd thought. He didn't think so; he'd only had part of a pint of ale and the double Firewhiskey, but he couldn't deny that he was feeling good. He nodded at the server. "I'll have another, but make it a single this time. And bring drinks for the two of them too," he nodded at Dam and Adam. The server left and Harry stretched in his seat.

"Are you sure Ginny isn't coming, Harry?" Dam was still looking at him rather seriously. The knut dropped. He shook his head at Dam.

"I don't think this is really Ginny's scene. You know, since she's so quick to tell us how we all drive her crazy." Harry wasn't sure, but he thought maybe that Dam still fancied Ginny. They'd kissed – and maybe more – Harry knew, but she'd assured him it hadn't gone much farther than that. Harry would never admit to Dam that he'd harbored his own crush on Ginny, of course. Still did, if he was being completely honest with himself. It wouldn't ever go anywhere, but some little part of Harry wasn't ready to give it up, despite how much Ginny plainly considered him an extension of her brothers. Living down the hall from her hadn't changed things much, but he'd at least been able to help manage some of the nuisances from those fan-witches. Ginny had appreciated that, Harry was pretty sure.

"Ahh, right," Dam finally said. Some of the twinkle had returned to his eyes. "She likes places that are more private, Ginny does?" He lifted the new drink the server had just deposited and lowered his voice. "Kind of like you, hmm?" He gave Harry an expectant look.

Harry was saved from answering Dam's question when Ron appeared and threw himself into the empty seat at the table. "How are things here?" he asked loudly over the din of the pub. "Hermione's just getting our drinks now. She and . . . Ginny are, I mean." Ron gave Harry his own rather odd look and Harry considered passing over his drink. Maybe he and Hermione'd had a fight before they arrived.

"Oho, so she did come, didn't she?" Dam grinned. "Harry here was trying to convince me that Ginny would rather be someplace quieter than the pub. More _private, _if you know what I mean." He nudged Ron. "That's not a problem is it? Thinking about your sister and . . . ouch!" Dam was suddenly rubbing his elbow and looking at a widening pool of the firewhiskey he'd just spilled spread over the table. "I think something stung me!" he said, looking around. He looked at Harry. "Did you see anything flying around in here?"

"Probably one of those alebees, they like pubs, I've heard," said Ron.

"Okay, then," said Dam. He looked around. "What were we talking about?"

Harry didn't feel like reminding Dam that he'd been talking about Ginny; his own chances might be slim but he certainly didn't need to help the bloke get closer to her. He shrugged. "I can't remember," he said.

"Neither can I," laughed Dam. He turned to Ron. "What were we talking about?"

"Alebees," said Ron firmly. "I think there's an infestation here." He looked back at the bar and Harry saw Hermione and Ginny coming towards them with a number of drinks. "I'll mention it to the owner."

"Mention what to the owner?" asked Hermione. She pulled up a couple of chairs and she and Ginny sat down. "We got you lot some Firewhiskey," she said, distributing glasses around the table. Adam and Dam made sounds of thanks. Adam downed his and then lurched to his feet.

"Loo," he muttered, departing in that direction.

Harry looked at the two nearly full glasses in front of him. Apparently he'd be getting rather pissed tonight after all. He lifted one of his glasses. "To victories tonight and no games tomorrow," he said with a laugh.

"Hear hear," answered Dam, clinking his glass against Harry's.

Harry emptied on of his glasses and sighed. "The Ogden's Reserve is so smooth," he said. He nudged Ron. "Go on, why aren't you drinking yet? You have some catching up to do. You too, Hermione." He frowned at them. "Why so serious? Did the two of you get in a fight before you got here?" He turned to Ginny. "Did they, Ginny? Get in a fight? Cause if so, I'd think all three of you probably need a drink." He pushed his other glass across the table. "One of you have mine." None of the three made a move to take the drink and dimly, Harry wondered why. Before he could work through the layers of drink to figure anything out, Dam interrupted.

"Had enough already, Potter? he smirked. "Surely you can manage another drink." He leaned forward and pulled the glass back in front of Harry.

"Only if you promise no eight a.m. surprise workout," said Harry. He took a sip of the liquor and then turned in his seat. "You'll come take care of me again if I need it, won't you Ginny? I promise not to vomit on your shoes or anything." He leaned over and nudged her hand playfully, the alcohol making him bold. "Please?

Ginny's answering expression was more irritated than normal and even in his buzzed state, Harry thought maybe he'd done something wrong. Ginny didn't like the touch; probably thought he was teasing her. He pulled his hand away. "Sorry," he said.

Ginny gave him a strange look; if Harry had been more sober he likely would have wondered what had gotten into everyone, but his mind was pleasantly fuzzy. He shrugged instead. "I mean, I won't touch you again."

Ginny shook her head. "That's not . . . I mean . . ." She looked swiftly at Hermione, then Ron. She said something so quietly that Harry wasn't sure what it was. _I can't _was what he thought he heard, but that didn't make any sense. As usual, he looked Ron for a clue about how to act around his sister. Ron looked momentarily grim but when he saw Harry looking at him his face relaxed and he took a big sip of his firewhiskey. Ginny jumped to her feet.

"I . . . I'm . . . loo," she stuttered. Her eyes found Harry's for a brief second and then shuttered; she backed away from the table before turning around and heading swiftly towards the back of the pub. Hermione got up too.

"I uhh, I need to go as well," she said. She touched Ron's arm before she left and he nodded.

"Witches," he said to Harry and Dam. Harry thought he looked about to say something else but he picked up his firewhiskey instead.

Harry took another sip of his drink too. "Kinda glad I don't have that complication, if they're going to behave like that," he said. It was a variation on a comment he made every so often around Ron and his family to keep his secret crush firmly hidden. Normally the statement was followed by joking agreement from whichever of the Weasley brothers was currently in a relationship, indignant disapproval from their girlfriends, and a tutting from Molly, who seemed perpetually concerned about the state of Harry's singleness. But Ron missed the moment to add his own lament about witches and relationships. Instead, he gave Harry a weak smile.

"Yeah, lucky," he said, glancing back towards the back of the loo where Hermione and Ginny could no longer be seen.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny wasn't sure if her tears were from worry, anger, or sadness but it didn't really matter. By the time she pushed open the door to the woman's loo she could no long keep them from sliding down her cheeks. Two women standing at the sinks looked at her curiously.

"Are you okay?" one of them asked tentatively.

Ginny imagined the look on her face was not one for inviting confidences. Still, she gave the other witch a watery smile. "Not really, no," she said. "But it's complicated."

The other woman nodded knowingly. "Blokes always are," she said.

Ginny was saved from having to explain that in this case, things were _particularly_ complicated by the arrival of Hermione in the loo. She was trying to hide her distress, Ginny could tell, but it was obvious that Harry's behavior had concerned her more than she had expected. She gave Ginny a hug. "We're going to figure this out," she said bracingly.

"Want me to hex someone?" The second witch by the sinks twirled her wand in her hand. "I'm particularly good at shrinking a bloke's bits."

"He's already _been_ hexed, that's the trouble," she said. Somehow, pretending that this was an ordinary relationship problem steadied her. "But thanks for the offer. I'd rather he keep his bits intact until I have a chance to . . . you know."

"Use them, yes," said the witch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect of gossip and heartache that didn't involve her. "Sounds like a love triangle; does he have another girlfriend? Did she do the hexing?" She and her friend leaned in.

"Oh," said Ginny. She couldn't make her mind work properly. "Umm, not exactly. It was more like . . ."

"The other witch is jealous," broke in Hermione quickly. "Har. . . _he_ is really only interested in Ginny, but this other witch won't leave him alone." She looked pointedly at Ginny. "Isn't that right?"

"Right," said Ginny. "I know he loves me; he's told me, many times. And shown me too." It felt very important to say the words out loud, as if letting other people know could somehow make them true. The two witches made sounds of approval; this was the kind of information they wanted. "What kind of hex?" asked one.

Ginny didn't care about caution. The shock of Harry's behavior was too raw to keep inside. "One that made him forget me," she said. "I mean, he knows who I am, but he doesn't remember that he . . . that he loves me." Her tears, which had stopped, threatened again and Ginny bit the inside of her lip. She wasn't usually a crier, which made the emotion even harder to control.

"Oooh," said the witches, almost in unison. "Like that potion you can buy in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" asked one of them? "The Temporary Memory Meddler? My mum uses it on my dad sometimes, to get him to forget how many Galleons she spends on new robes."

Ginny hadn't heard of that particular product; still, she knew that wasn't what was wrong with Harry. The twins' pranks and jokes were all short-lived and ultimately innocuous. There was nothing innocent about what had been done here. She shrugged anyway. "Something like that," she said. "But it's lasting longer."

"Ahem, not that much longer," said Hermione. She shot Ginny a warning look. "In fact, I bet by the time you get home, the hex will have worn off." She touched Ginny's arm. "Shall we go see?"

Ginny forced her brain to think like an Auror again. "I bet you're right," she said. She took a deep breath. "Actually, we should go talk to Fred and George ourselves. If it's one of their products that's gone a bit wonky, they need to know." She gave what she hoped was a convincing smile at the other witches. "Thanks for listening," she said. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."

One of them waved her hand at Ginny. "Our pleasure," she said. "Hope you get things sorted with your man soon." They left the loo, chattering about men and their unreliability. Hermione looked at Ginny.

"Ron confunded Dam; it should hopefully be enough to keep him from asking Harry about you. He umm, he didn't want to try anything stronger."

Ginny shuddered. "No memory charms," she agreed. "Hopefully Dam's suggestible enough that he'll the Confundus will work."

"I think it will," nodded Hermione. "On Dam at least." She fiddled with the hem of her jumper before looking up at Ginny again.

"I still don't think we should tell Harry anything yet, not until I've done some more research and you've talked to someone at the Aurors – Camilla, did you say?" At Ginny's nod, Hermione nodded at the door. "But we should probably get him home before he . . . does something he'll regret. Later."

Ginny felt her stomach drop. Had Harry been flirting with someone before she'd arrived? Might he be now? If Dam didn't remember that she and Harry were together, maybe he'd already pushed Harry together with some other witch. "And we can't stop him if he is," she said, completing her thought out loud.

Hermione understood. "I'll knock into him and spill my drink if that's the case," she promised. "Tell him Ron needs minding or something." She pushed open the door to the loo.

Back at the table, Ginny was relieved to see only familiar Arrows, plus Ron, sitting there. There were several more empty glasses too, she noted, and by the steam circling lazily around Harry's head, he'd clearly enjoyed several of them. She caught Ron's eye and he gave her a tiny nod, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Time to go home mate," he said cheerfully, getting to his feet.

Harry looked up at Ron. "Why?" he asked. "It's early. I don' hafta work tomorrow and neither do you." He waved his hands around the table. "No one else's leaving," he said. He nudged Kipling Cross, who taken over Ginny's seat. "You aren't leaving, are ya? Kipling? You staying?"

Kipling nodded. "Lots of cute blokes here," he said contentedly, looking around. He nudged Harry. "Witches too, I think. See any you like?"

Harry started looking carefully around the bar and Ginny felt herself go cold. He was drunker than he'd been when Ginny had left for the loo, that was obvious. She wondered if the memory charm had done something to his ability to hold his alcohol. He wasn't as bad off as at his hazing night, but this was the closest to that she'd ever seen him. She gave Ron a beseeching look. Ron grabbed Harry's arm again.

"We have to uhh, be at the Burrow tomorrow morning," he said. "Family breakfast, remember?" Ginny didn't miss the way Ron winced over that last word and she held her breath. But Harry just shook his head and got slowly to his feet.

"I didn't," he slurred. "Remember." He looked at Ginny. "Did you know?"

Ginny nodded quickly. "I did," she said. "I'm umm, I'm going."

Harry peered more closely at her. "And you want me t' be there?"

Ginny had no idea what Harry meant and she couldn't even ask. She nodded again, blinking back tears. "Yeah," she muttered, turning away so no one at the table could see.

"We should get going now," Hermione's voice was calm. She grabbed Harry's other arm and then waited while he fumbled with his pocket and threw some Galleons on the table.

"On me," he said. "Cause I gotta go to th' Burrow in the morning. Including _Ginny_." He whispered her name conspiratorily and Ginny clenched her fists at her sides. Was Harry's memory coming back, was that it? It seemed too much to hope for that whoever had enough knowledge to remove such specific memories would have done it for a lark, or had it wear off without first revealing his – or her – purpose. Ron and Hermione were directing him carefully through the bar to the back alley Apparition point and Ginny followed along, thoughts swirling.

They brought Harry back to his and Ron's flat but lay him down on the sofa instead of in his bed. He was nearly passed out but when Ginny covered him with a blanket, he stirred for a moment. "Izzat right Ginny? Are you my friend?"

Ginny struggled with the strong sense of déjà vu Harry's words conjured. Like the last time, she grabbed a bucket and put it by Harry's head and nodding agreeable. "Sure Harry," she said quietly, this time choking back tears. "I'm your friend." She waited for Harry to respond, but he was back asleep, snoring gently. She sighed and lowered herself into a chair. "Now what? He's not getting his memory back, is he?"

"I don't think so, no," said Hermione gently.

"And it's not making him more drunk than normal?"

Ron snorted. "No, that'd be all the Firewhiskey he drank," he said. His expression softened. "His inhibitions were lower though. Because he didn't have a reason to stay sober."

Ginny nodded. "I need to talk to Camilla," she said. "As soon as possible; tomorrow even." She didn't know if there was a protocol for contacting the senior Aurors in case of a problem and she didn't care; Camilla was the only one she trusted right now. But Ron shook his head.

"They're at a weekend retreat, remember?" he asked. "If there's an emergency, we could get in touch with them but everyone would hear about it. I don't think we want to do that, if Harry's not in immediate danger."

"He's not," agreed Hermione. "Although one or more of us is going to need to be with him all weekend so he doesn't get himself into trouble. And Ron's going to need to keep Confunding Dam."

Ginny sighed. "Can I be part of that? I mean, is it okay if I'm around Harry? I really want to . . . I want to be here," she said firmly. _No matter how much it hurts._

Hermione looked at her as if guessing her unspoken thought. "I think that will be okay," she said carefully. And if it gets to be a problem, you'll leave, okay?"

Ginny nodded. "Okay," she said quietly. But as far as she was concerned, she'd make sure there was no problem. Leaving Harry alone right now – and his being with Ron and Hemione still felt alone, as far as she was concerned – was unbearable to her. She nodded again. "Okay."


	33. What's Gone, What's Left?

A/N: I planned to get this posted as soon as all the quarantine stuff got serious here in the US, but I ended up being busier than expected getting my own work from home life set up. I'm good to go now, and not really going anywhere, so my plan is to try to write and post fairly regularly, even if the chapters are shorter. Stay safe and healthy, wherever you are!

The rest of the weekend was hell for Ginny. She hadn't wanted to leave Harry, nearly passed out on his sofa Friday night, but staying there in his flat felt almost as wrong. It almost felt like she was trespassing, or spying, despite the fact that Ron and Hermione were there too and promised to check up on him throughout the night. If she'd stayed, and Harry happened to wake in the middle of the night she couldn't trust that she wouldn't blurt everything out or burst into tears. Or both. Instead she went back to her flat to sleep but of course she didn't. She paced around her apartment, lay down in her bed, got up from her bed, even took a thoroughly unneeded shower, and all the time, her thoughts were swirling around as if a bunch of Cornish Pixies had gotten hold of them and were flying about inside her head. In her more rational moments – and there were few of those – Ginny told herself that of course they'd be able to fix things. Camilla or someone would know immediately how to perform the counter-charm, Harry would remember he loved her again, and maybe they'd even have a good laugh about it. How could there not be a simple solution? But far more often, as she paced and sat and finally cried, Ginny couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had been done to Harry was a lot more serious than she or Ron or Hermione imagined. It was too carefully targeted, and too well thought out and precisely implemented to have been done by someone without considerable magical knowledge, and that meant the untangling the spell was likely to be difficult, assuming it was possible at all.

A thought struck Ginny suddenly, and she almost went running back down the hallway from her shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel. She stopped only long enough to pull on pajamas and a robe; her wet hair left drops of water on the carpet as she stood in front of the door to Harry and Ron's flat, knocking firmly and hoping it only alerted Ron and didn't wake up Harry. Ron opened the door almost immediately, and Ginny could tell that he and Hermione hadn't been any more successful at sleeping than she had. There was a plate of biscuits and a pot of coffee on the table but neither looked like it had been touched; both Ron and Hermione were wrapped in blankets and had apparently been sitting together on the loveseat across from the sofa where Harry was still fast asleep. Hermione stood up as Ginny came in.

"I know something we missed," she blurted out before Ron had even shut the door behind her. "I was so shocked, I didn't even consider it." Her eyes strayed back to Harry; his mouth was slightly open and his face completely relaxed as he slept. Inexplicably, Ginny thought of the last time she'd watched Harry sleep. They'd been together in her bed and she'd been far more interested in the way a sunbeam had lit up another part of Harry's anatomy than she'd been with his face. But now she watched his mouth, his lips, as they moved softly as he breathed, and she couldn't look away.

"What, Ginny?" Ron pulled her out of the moment and she looked at her brother, trying to clear her thoughts. She forced her glance away from Harry's mouth.

"Uhh, what we didn't think about," she said. "It has to have been someone who knew," she said. "Knew about me and Harry." She stopped talking to let that information sink in.

"You don't think . . . not someone in your family?" asked Hermione. She looked doubtful. Ginny shook her head.

"I know Fred and George want to get back at us," she said. "But they wouldn't do anything like this. I'm not sure they could – this was a really tricky memory charm." By the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, Ginny knew she wasn't the only one to have come to the conclusion that only someone really adept at this sort of magic could have performed such a precise charm and had it hold as well as it did. Ginny hated to ask, but she knew she had to. "You don't think . . . I mean, could Dam be behind it? I know Harry says he'd not very adept at magic, but . . . what if it's not true? What if it's an act?"

Ron shook his head immediately. "It can't be Dam," he said. "I talked to Harry about it when I first moved in because I couldn't believe someone that good at Quidditch could be so . . ."

"Poor at magic?" asked Ginny.

Ron nodded. "I know the skill and talent needed to play is mostly different than what's needed for spells and things, but there is some overlap. I mean, you have to have a decent amount of magical ability just to stay on a broom. But Harry told me that Dam had been thoroughly investigated – like all professional Quidditch players are; maybe even more. He was homeschooled, remember? Robards was particularly interested in him, apparently. Not because he'd been taught anything dangerous or dark, but because his parents didn't seem to teach him much at all, apart from how to play Quidditch. Robards thought that maybe all of Dam's latent magical ability had been focused into his flying and playing skills and that's why he's so good. Kane checked him out too, looking for any evidence of dark magic hiding his true power, and couldn't find anything." Ron grimaced. "And you know how thorough Kane can be about that stuff." He yawned widely, then leaned towards the table to pick up one of the mugs of steaming coffee.

Hearing Ron explain it that way and watching him take a drink made something click for Ginny. She watched her brother swallow in horror and fought the urge to swat the mug out of his hand. "Don't drink any more!" she cried instead.

Ron looked at her curiously and then down at the coffee. "What's wrong with . . ." he stared at her, understanding dawning. "It's Kane," he said flatly. It wasn't a question.

"How much did you drink?" asked Ginny shakily. _And had Hermione?_ She didn't think she could handle it if the two of them somehow forgot her too. Although if they had the coffee, it might be easier to figure out an antidote; Ginny would just have to find someone to help her, if Ron and Hermione wouldn't. But Ron shook his head.

"This isn't from that bag," he said. "There were only enough beans for one big pot and I made it this morning. Hermione and I each had a cup and I left the rest for you and Harry – there was plenty. Didn't you get any?"

Ginny was so relieved that Ron's memory was intact that she didn't focus on the meaning of what Ron was saying. She shook her head. "There wasn't any left when I got up, she said.

"Harry must have had almost three cups then," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I wonder . . . " She got up went over to the bookshelf.

It was oddly comforting for Ginny to see Hermione searching for answers in a book; as far as she was concerned, if there was a solution to be found, Hermione would find it. The books on Ron and Harry's shelves were mostly the same as on Ginny's various volumes about Quidditch and then a full set of texts used in Auror training. Hermione was flipping through the treatise on potions, her lower lip captured in her teeth and she read intently. "That's what I thought," she muttered before looking up.

"What?" asked Ginny.

Hermione brought the book with her and sat down. "I think we already knew that the potion was made to target Harry, since Ron and I both drank some with no ill effects. She waved the book. "But this confirms that it's possible to target a potion to a person so specifically that they are induced to drink more of it, thus experiencing even greater effects." She looked at Ron. "We thought it tasted a little more bitter than normally, so neither of us finished our cups, and didn't have seconds," she said. "But it sounds like Harry drank a lot of it, and he would have wanted to. He probably would have been affected by just a little bit, but the more he drank . . ."

"The worse his memory loss," finished Ginny.

"And the more precisely it is – focused only on you," said Hermione apologetically. "Or more exactly, on the fact that you and he were . . . in a relationship?"

"In love," Ginny clarified, her heart twisting. I'm in love with him and he's . . . he's in love with me. Somewhere down deep. I know it. We just have to figure out how to find it again."

"We will," said Ron with so much vehemence that Ginny felt tears prick in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said quietly. She forced her thoughts away from Harry's love and to the more pressing matter of understanding what had been done to him. "So do you think your memory wasn't affected because you didn't drink enough coffee or because the potion wasn't made to affect you?" she asked. "And if I'd had any to drink, do you think I would have forgotten about me and Harry too?"

"I don't know," said Hermione. She sounded frustrated. "Without any of the coffee to test, I can't be sure. And even if we did have some left, the only way to find out might be to have you drink some, and we obviously wouldn't do that."

Ginny shivered. _What if she had drunk the coffee too? _If she'd forgotten she loved Harry, and gone back to how she'd viewed him before, would the two of them have ever found their way back? Right now they had no idea what to do, but Ginny was determined to fight with everything she had. If she had taken the potion too, it would have been up to Ron and Hermione to fix things. Ginny had no doubt they would have noticed something off and done whatever they could to help, but it wouldn't have been the same; they wouldn't have understood – really understood – what had been lost. They may have never made the connection to the coffee and Kane. Who knew how long it would have been until Ron and Hermione gave up, assuming that since no one's life was in danger, they didn't need to keep fighting so hard? The thought was chilling.

". . . his crush?" Ginny? Ron was speaking, and apparently had been for a minute or two already. Ginny forced her mind back. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" she asked.

Ron didn't even look annoyed that Ginny hadn't been listening to him. He waved his hand at Harry's sleeping figure. "I think we need to figure out how far back Harry's memory loss goes," he said. "For example, do you think he remembers that he had a crush on you?"

"Since Fifth Year," added Hermione. "I think it's important."

"Does it matter?" asked Ginny. "His crush was completely one-sided and secret and nothing like what . . . what we have now. What's real between us." She refused to speak about her and Harry in the past tense or acknowledge in any way that he might not be feeling those things at the moment. If Harry had reverted back to his teenaged crush it felt worse somehow, than if he'd just temporarily forgotten he loved Ginny. The crush meant they'd have to start over, and her and Harry's relationship, which had grown naturally and organically over the past months might look completely different at the end. She gave Hermione a challenging look.

Hermione nodded. "It's a good thing, actually," she said. "If he remembers the crush that means only a specific, recent memory of you has been removed. Everything else is the same, so if we can figure out how to erase the effects of the potion, that memory might return with no ill effects."

There were several threads of thought in that last sentence that needed investigating. Ginny pulled on the easier one first. "No ill effects?" she asked hopefully.

Hermione nodded. "If the potion is just . . . _blanketing_ that particular memory in Harry's brain, and we can figure out how to remove the blanket, then things should go pretty much back to normal. He might not even remember this time."

That was exactly what Ginny wanted to hear. Still, she couldn't ignore the rest of what Hermione had said. "You used a lot of 'ifs' and 'mights' though," she said.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, I'm making a lot of assumptions," she said. "Memory charms and potions and spells can work in a lot of different ways. For example, when I modified my parents memories and sent them to Australia, I masked their original memories with a new life story – one that didn't include me in it. I wasn't sure exactly how they'd be when I removed it and gave them new memories afterwards." Her voice wavered a bit and Ron put his arm around her. For a moment, Ginny felt like an ass. Hermione had given up her parents for an entire year – performed a much more complex charm without any guarantee they'd remember her at the end – without knowing if she'd even live to remove it. What was the loss of Harry's love compared to that? He still remembered who she was, and now that Ginny knew the truth, her behavior towards Harry was different than before, even if his wasn't. It was much better than what Hermione had been through, and she said so.

Hermione wiped her eyes and gave Ginny a small smile. "I'm okay," she said. She continued to lean into Ron. "And I knew what I was doing for my parents and what needed to be done at the end. That made it easier. Right now, I'm guessing about Harry."

Ron leaned forward. "How do you think Kane figured it out?" he asked. "That's probably a good place to start." He looked at Ginny. "You don't think Angelina would have said something, do you? She's the only other trainee who knows."

Ginny shook her head. "She wouldn't – she told me she wouldn't, and I believe her." She grimaced. "I think it was me. I sometimes . . . thought about Harry. During class." She felt her face turn a little red. "I didn't mean to, but . . ."

"Some of those lectures were dry," finished Ron.

"Kane's been trying Legilimency on me all year," she said. "He even admitted it once; didn't seem to think it was a big deal to use that skill as an investigatory tool. I tried to avoid eye contact after that but I probably slipped once or twice."

"And it wouldn't have been difficult for him to tell from what you were thinking . . .?" asked Hermione gently. Ginny saw her squeeze Ron's arm lightly, as if warning him not to interrupt.

Ginny felt her face heat up a bit more. "No," she admitted. "I mean, nothing too explicit," she added hastily, "but the . . . fact that we're together yeah, Kane could have gotten that. And maybe some of the . . . emotions between us." She carefully did not look at her brother.

Hermione was thinking hard, Ginny could tell. She finally nodded slowly. "Okay. So Kane probably doesn't know too many specific details about you two, which is good and bad. He might have had to guess about what exactly to remove, which means Harry might have lost things we haven't realized."

"Which will make it harder to put them back," said Ginny flatly.

"Maybe," Hermione admitted. "I just don't know enough yet about the potion or its effects and potential remedies." Ron looked up.

"Remedies for a potion?" he asked. "Couldn't we just make him swallow a bezoar?" He looked hopefully at his girlfriend.

Even Ginny knew the answer to that one. "Bezoars can reverse the damaging physical effects of many poisons," she said. "Maybe if Harry had swallowed one along with his coffee, it might have stopped the memory loss, but it would be useless now."

Hermione nodded in agreement, but before she could say more, there was a groan from the sofa. The three of them froze as Harry rolled over and the blanket slipped off of him. "Wass 'er name?" he mumbled. He reached out as if to grab something and then dropped his hands again. Hermione walked over to him and knelt by his head.

"What's whose name, Harry?" she asked gently.

Harry's eyes were still closed. "Server's name," he said. "Wass nice," he said. "Pretty." He had a small smile on his face.

Ginny felt as thought she'd been hit by a Bludger. Even when Harry had been drunk after his hazing night, he hadn't talked about other witches, not even the one he'd just been snogging at the pub. He'd mentioned Ginny, actually. Something about her being his friend, if she remembered correctly, and nothing about kissing Katerina Bellows. Tonight apparently, the server at the pub had made more of an impression on Harry, but was that happenstance or because he wasn't harboring what he thought was an unrequited crush on Ginny? Hermione started to get up but Ginny shook her head. "Let me," she said, not caring if it wasn't the proper thing to do. "Harry would want me to try."

Hermione nodded and Ginny got up and knelt by Harry's head. Her hand was halfway to his head, ready to stroke his cheek before she realized what she was doing and pulled back. "Umm, the server isn't here, Harry," she said carefully. Across the room, Hermione motioned her to go on. "I don't remember her name, I'm sorry."

Harry quieted at the sound of Ginny's voice. He turned his head towards her. "Gin . . . isssat Ginny?" he slurred.

Ginny felt a thrum of relief that Harry had immediately known who she was. She swallowed hard and kept her voice even. "It's me, Harry," she said. "I, uhh, came here with Ron and Hermione after the pub."

Harry nodded, his eyes still closed. "D'you kiss Dam?" he asked. "He likes you, I think."

Ginny looked at Ron and Hermione, panicked. She _had _kissed Dam of course, but it didn't seem like Harry remembered that. She made a quick decision. "No," she said. "I didn't." She couldn't tell from Harry's face if he'd heard her. "And I won't," she said more firmly.

Harry gave a tiny nod. "Good," he mumbled. "Not Dam." He grabbed at the blanket and Ginny pulled it higher over his chest. "Don' hex me."

"Why would I hex you, Harry?" she asked quietly. But Harry's breathing had evened out and he didn't answer. Ginny couldn't hold herself back anymore, and she brushed her hand across Harry's forehead, letting it rest there a moment before leaning down to kiss him softly on the cheek. He mumbled something unintelligible and for a moment, Ginny thought she'd heard her name. But then Harry rolled away from her and slept on.

Ginny brushed an angry tear off her cheek and stood up. "I'm speaking to Camilla first thing Monday morning," she said. "I'll think up some excuse to avoid Kane. Probably Robards too, for now." She looked at Ron and Hermione. "This is too big for just us and I don't want to waste any time." She looked down at Harry's sleeping form. "What should we do until then?"

"I think one of us, I mean, just me and Ron, should be with him at all times," said Hermione. She looked apologetically at Ginny. "You can be here too, off and on, but. . ."

"But I need to pretend everything's like it used to be with us," nodded Ginny. "I know." She gave them a small smile. "Can you stand it if I'm my petty, irritating old self again?" she asked her brother.

Ron's smile back was equally sad. "I'm so sorry, Ginny," he said.

The morning sun was beginning to peek through the windows when Ginny walked back to her flat, finally exhausted enough that she thought she might be able to sleep and with promises from Ron and Hermione that they'd contact her if anything changed.

Her hair was mostly dry now and the pajamas she'd hastily pulled on were mis-matched but comfortable. Ginny pulled back the blankets on her bed, carefully trying to avoid looking at the second pillow. But she couldn't keep the images out of her head - Harry propped up on his side, watching her as she got ready to climb in next to him. In that case, she'd have pulled off her pajamas first, she knew. Maybe left only her knickers on, to give Harry the pleasure of slowly prizing them off, teasing her all the while.

Ginny didn't even bother brushing away her tears this time. She got into bed and turned firmly away from the other side - from Harry's side - before roughly extinguishing all the light in her flat, pointing her wand almost violently at the curtains to get them to close. With any luck, she'd be able to sleep a big chunk of the day away and wake up that much close to Monday and to being able to find a way to fix this, and get Harry back.


	34. Kane Explains

After much debate, Ron called in sick Monday morning to stay with Harry, so Ginny walked to work alone with her thoughts. It was a good thing the Arrows weren't due to play another match until Friday, but both Hermione and Ron were exhausting themselves with efforts to keep Dam and the rest of the team from realizing anything was wrong. The two of them and Ginny all agreed without dispute that any spell stronger than a Confundus was strictly off limits, and so the three had resorted to blatant lying when necessary. Just before Ginny had left for work - with tea, because she couldn't face the idea of drinking coffee - Hermione had sent an owl to Arrows' management describing the rather severe case of Doxy Flu that had befallen Harry. He'd likely be indisposed - and contagious - for 3-4 days, the letter said, but he was being well cared for at the Burrow. Hopefully the team's wish to keep opponents and others from learning that Harry was sick and possibly unable to play in the next game would buy them all some time, Hermione had explained while Harry was in the shower. Without a better plan, Ginny had agreed, although she didn't see how only four days was going to be enough time to figure everything out. But twice that weekend, Harry had made comments about Ginny being irritated by him individually or with the Arrows, and on another occasion, he'd brought up the prank with the weasels from months and months ago, smirking the same way he had the first time Fred had done the spell. Ginny was exhausted - both physically and emotionally - from the effort of trying to be normal around Harry, whatever normal was at the moment, and simultaneously trying not to cry. A dozen times a day she'd found herself almost touching him or responding with an innuendo or comment that he'd have found arousing only days before, only remembering and pulling back at the last moment. Ron had suggested that maybe it would be easier on Ginny if she spent some time in her own flat, but let the idea go when she'd only been able to stay away for ten minutes. Being around Harry, as painful as it was, was still better than being away from him, worrying.

It had been hard to leave that morning, even, but going to Camilla was the only idea any of them had at the moment. Ginny couldn't even begin to think about what they would do if the Auror didn't have an idea about how to help. She pushed that thought away as she hurried through the quiet streets towards the Ministry. Ginny had left earlier than usual so that she could catch Camilla alone before the other trainees arrived. The wind was sharper than she'd realized and she pulled her cloak more tightly around herself as she walked. It would be Christmas soon, a holiday Ginny had been anticipated even more than normal. Her first holiday _with_ Harry had promised to be wonderful. He'd even dropped a few hints about a surprise for her, and no amount of teasing - or pleasuring - had convinced him to give up his secret. Now she might never know.

_Pull it together, Ginevra! _She'd begun lecturing herself whenever her thoughts had gone to places too dark or negative; it helped keep her from spiraling into a morass of "what ifs". It was getting harder to control though; she needed action not pep-talks, and it was with no little measure of relief that the imposing lines of the Ministry finally came into view.

Ginny rode the lift to Auror headquarters practicing what she would say to Camilla. Should she start with the coffee, or leave that and her suspicions of Kane out of it for now, and just tell her about Harry's memory loss? She and Ron and Hermione hadn't been able to decide how much to tell Camilla, if it would be helpful or risky to share all their suspicions at once, or let them come out only if needed. Ginny was still trying to figure out how to open the conversation when she rounded the corner in the office and discovered it didn't matter.

Camilla, Kane and Robards all looked up at once from what appeared to be an intense conversation right in the middle of the corridor. Ginny wouldn't say any of them looked angry, exactly, but it was clear they weren't talking about the latest Quidditch match either. There was absolutely no chance for Ginny to turn around or pretend she hadn't seen them; and any chance that they wanted privacy to finish the conversation themselves evaporated when Kane waved her over, a smile on his face.

"Miss Weasley, just the person we wanted to see!" Kane looked at her as if the three top Aurors had been waiting all day for Ginny to arrive. Robards seemed nonplussed by Kane's enthusiastic welcome, but by the look on Camilla's face, Ginny would have bet anything that Kane's words were as much a surprise to her as they were to Ginny. Camilla quickly straightened her features though, but not before shooting Ginny a quick look of warning that she interpreted to mean that she should be as agreeable as possible. Thinking quickly, she turned away from Kane and spoke to her boss.

"What did you want to see me for, sir?" She half expected Kane to answer instead, but Robards nodded.

"We want to organize more fieldwork around the homeschooling issue," he said mildly. Ginny got the odd impression the the head Auror was parroting words he'd heard from Kane. Ginny frowned, but before she could think what to do, Robards continued. "Shep here is especially concerned that there may be a new crop of families starting to teach the Dark Arts, ones we haven't been tracking."

"Even though there's very little evidence to support the theory, and even though Hermione Granger's work on the homeschooling legislation should be more than adequate to identify and track anyone who doesn't wish to send their children to a formal school of magic," interrupted Camilla. She turned to Kane, but Ginny had the feeling she was trying to tell her something as well. "Honestly Shepard, the way you imagine dark magic in every little boy and girl who doesn't go to Hogwarts is getting a little excessive."

Kane didn't get angry as Ginny expected. Instead, he shook his head in an almost patronizing manner. "As I've said before, 'Milla, that hasn't been my experience, and I think I have made significant strides in backing up my suspicions." He inclined his head at Ginny. "Of course, my research is not as . . . complete as I'd like." He gave a little shrug. "We all make our choices though, don't we?" This time he looked directly at Ginny. "Although I've recently become concerned that some of those choices turn out to have more significant repercussions, which is what else I wanted to talk to you about."

Camilla made a small noise of exasperation. "Out with it, Kane, you've been dancing around your 'suspicions' all weekend at the conference," she said, just as Robards asked "This is something about Quidditch, you said?"

"Quidditch? What about Quidditch?" asked Ginny. She suddenly wished they'd been able to figure out another way to keep an eye on Harry and that Ron had come to work with her. There were too many things she wasn't sure she should say, particularly with how odd the other three seemed to be acting. But it was too late now.

Kane was direct. "Do you listen to the Arrows' post-game press conferences?" he asked. "Harry's interviews, specifically?"

Ginny froze, unsure what to say. The truth was, she didn't always bother listening after the game itself ended, having the real thing in her bed soon after, or at least available for a chat by Floo or sexy note. She knew Harry still felt uncomfortable at the press conferences, and while she didn't consciously avoid listening to them, she didn't seek them out either. "Umm, sometimes I do," she said cautiously. "But as the team lives in my building, I see and hear enough of them anyway." She hoped that answer was sufficiently complete.

Kane seemed pleased. "Ahh, then even though you know Harry rather well, you probably wouldn't have noticed what I have," he said. "And not only me; I actually had a note from one of the Quidditch correspondents for the Prophet too, asking me if I'd picked up on the . . . oddity." He gave Ginny a serious look.

Ginny had no doubt that Kane was setting her up for something. The fact that he was doing it in front of Gawain Robards and Camilla Stalk spoke either to the innocence of the query or to the fact that Kane was setting them up too. Normally Ginny would be comforted by the fact that they were experienced Aurors who should recognize anything off, but Robards at least was acting - almost disinterested, if that was the right word. Camilla seemed to be fully present, although Ginny didn't dare look at her.

Robards leaned forward. "Quidditch, eh?" he said in the same mild voice. "I hope it's nothing that's going to affect the friendly wager I have with Kingsley. He's got his money on the Arrows but I think the Harpies are going to rout them in the end." He shifted on his feet and stumbled, putting a hand on Ginny's arm to steady himself. A quick squeeze before he straightened up and suddenly Ginny understood that Robards' casualness was an act. She let out a small breath before speaking.

"A Quidditch writer for the Prophet told you?" she said with a light laugh. "Most of the freelancers wouldn't recognize a Bludger if it hit them straight in the head. They only follow the game so they can comment on the state of the players' arses." Next to her, she saw Robards give a tiny nod. She shrugged. "I don't know if I'd believe anything I read in the Prophet."

"Oh, she hasn't written about it," said Kane. "I extracted a promise from her to keep things quiet, until the Aurors had a chance to investigate. I wouldn't worry about her writing anything about the problem with Harry any time soon."

Ginny couldn't spare a moment to wonder exactly what Kane had done to the report to _extract _such a promise from her. She stared at the man in horror. "What problem with Harry?" she asked. Next to her, Camilla made a convulsive gesture as if to stop her talking but Ginny ignored it and stepped closer to Kane. "What have you noticed about Harry?"

Kane gave her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's only been in the last few weeks," he said. "No more than the past three or four, I'm not exactly sure." He paused, and Ginny bit the inside of her cheek to force herself to wait. When she didn't say anything, Kane continued. "During his press conferences, he seems to have had trouble remembering specific details of the game he'd just played, answering questions about moves he'd made and things like that." Kane gave her a questioning look. "You haven't noticed? What about at home, has Harry had any trouble remembering things recently? People's names, his favorite foods, anything?" Kane's expression became expectant.

_Lie Lie Lie_, Ginny silently told herself. She'd figure it out some other way, once she had a chance to talk to Ron and Hermione. _Don't let Kane control things. _ But it was no use. The stress and pain of the long weekend, her worry about Harry, and the chance for answers sitting right before her was too much. Only half realizing what she was doing, Ginny nodded jerkily. "He's . . . yes. Ha-harry has forgotten . . . a lot." Next to her, both Camilla and Robards stiffened.

Dimly, Ginny was aware of the expression of satisfaction that flashed across Kane's face. It was gone in an instant though, replaced by deep concern. "I was afraid of that," he said grimly.

"Afraid of what?" Gawain Robards wasn't speaking mildly anymore. "Why would Harry Potter have lost his memory?" He made a convulsive movement at his waist that Ginny recognized as reaching for his wand and she automatically grabbed for hers too.

Kane held up his hands in supplication. "Now Gawain, don't get carried away," he said. "I'm merely concerned that some of the work Mr. Potter began - but did not finish - for me last year has led to . . . unfortunate circumstances. Nothing more."

There was something going on underneath the surface of Kane and Robards' interaction, but Ginny had no idea what it was, and no patience to figure it out. She turned back to Kane, her hand still on her wand. "Harry's memory?" she asked stiffly.

A noise in the hallway made them all look up; other Aurors and trainees were beginning to arrive for the day. "We should continue this in my office," Kane said. "Stalk, why don't you get the trainees situated and start their next lecture? I think they're to be working on annoyance hexes?"

Camilla waved her wand and a silvery blur shot down the hallway. "They can practice on each other for now," she said tersely. "I want to hear what's going on."

Ginny flashed Camilla a grateful smile as they all walked into Kane's office and he sealed the door. Camilla didn't smile back; she opened her mouth as if to say something and then stopped and shook her head. Once they were all seated, Kane sighed as if he had many better things to do Ginny wasn't fooled, and by the silence from the others, she knew they were as wary as she was. Briefly, she wondered if it was even wise for them to have agreed to speak in Kane's locked office, but while Camilla and Robards seemed to be on their guard, neither appeared particularly nervous or tense. Ginny forced herself to keep her face neutral.

Kane began without preamble. "Miss Weasley, throughout your training, I've had occasions to ask if you would help me . . . invite Mr. Potter back to the Aurors to finish some of the work he'd been doing for me." He looked directly at Ginny. "I'm afraid that by leaving as abruptly as he did, the task Harry began has continued unabated and unchecked, and has resulted in some unfortunately physical manifestations. Affecting his memory, I mean."

Everyone began to talk very fast. "What the hell was he doing for you, Shep?" demanded Robards as Camilla added angrily "there may have been a time for secrets after the War but not anymore."

Ginny could only think to ask the question she cared most about. "Will he get his memory back?" she asked quietly.

Kane turned to his colleagues first. "Now now, he said in a placating voice that even Ginny found infuriating. It's nothing that would have been a problem, had Mr. Potter simply seen the job to completion. Just a small spell designed to use his experiences with Tom Riddle to create a better device to detect Dark Magic." He waved in Ginny's direction. "That's why I've been rather insistent that you try to get Harry to come back to the Aurors. I had rather hoped to get this taken care of before it became a problem, and without causing unnecessary panic." Kane's voice was apologetic but Ginny heard the accusation in it. This was her fault, he seemed to say, her fault for not pushing Harry harder to come help the Aurors. She asked again.

"Will he get his memory back?"

Kane spread his hands. "Well, that depends on how serious the memory loss is already," he said. "Can you tell me what it is that Harry's forgotten?"

Despite her despair and shock, Ginny still was an Auror, and something told her not to mention the fact that Harry didn't remember working for Kane at all. "Me," she said, not caring that a tear snaked down her cheek. "He's forgotten me."

Kane gave her a sharp look. "He doesn't know who you are?" Ginny shook her head.

"He knows me just fine," she said, sure she didn't imagine Kane's shoulders relaxing a fraction. "But he was . . . I mean, we were, we _are_ in . . . a relationship. We're together. But right now he doesn't remember that."

"Oho, is that all?" Kane gave a light chuckle. "And just how long have you and Mr. Potter been . . .together?"

Ginny felt a light pressure on her arm. _Camilla._ She swallowed her anger at Kane's cavalier attitude and gave a small shrug. "Only a couple of months," she said. "But now he's started treating me like he did when we were kids again. Before we got to know each other."

Kane nodded. "Ahh, yes, that makes sense. Good," he said.

"What makes sense?" asked Robards. "Look, Shep, since the War ended I've given you and Camilla more latitude to follow your own theories than the rest of the Aurors. You're the two most experienced people I've got and you've earned the right. And Merlin knows, we had too much going on for a long time for me have time to childmind you both while we got this department up and running again. But now I need to be looped in to everything, especially something as serious as memory loss from an Auror-directed spell. What exactly did you do?" Robards didn't actually swear but Ginny heard the threat in his words nonetheless.

"It's really nothing, Gawain. You know that we've all been developing new methods for detecting dark magic, and this was one of mine. Just a charm that builds on the fact that Harry was once possessed by Voldemort. I hoped to draw out of the essence of that possession to make a new sort of Dark Detector." He nodded at Ginny. "And I'd hoped to use Miss Weasley's experience as well." He shrugged. "When Harry decided to go play Quidditch, the Arrows needed him rather immediately and he left at a rather . . . delicate time." Kane shrugged. "Fortunately, from what Miss Weasley is telling us, no real harm was done."

"No real harm?" Camilla's voice was incredulous. "Ginny says that she and Harry were in a relationship and now he doesn't remember that at all! I know you're a lifelong confirmed bachelor, but the rest of us take a rather dim view of having our significant other ripped from our life like that." Camilla put a reassuring hand on Ginny's arm. "I think you owe Ginny - and Harry - a way to fix things."

"What'd you use anyway, a cleaving charm?" Robards asked. "Coupled with a situational remembrance?" He closed his eyes, and Ginny could tell he was trying to think quickly. She didn't know what _situational remembrance_ was but it didn't sound overtly sinister. She kept her mouth shut and waited.

"Something like that," agreed Kane. "With a few of my own ideas added to account for the fact that we're looking for a dark signature from Voldemort." He turned to Ginny. "Forgive me, Miss Weasley, for implying that your loss of your, _affair of the heart, _is not significant. My relief was directed primarily at the fact that it appears Harry hasn't lost anything from his memory, but just a particular emotional tie instead." He cocked his head. "You never did get a chance to tell the training class about your entire experience in the Chamber, but from what I did learn from Harry's experience is that the two of you had a shared moment with Voldemort, correct? He'd just begun exploring that moment when he aborted the charm, and it seems as if some of those residual effects carried over into present day." He patted Ginny on the arm. Where Camilla had been comforting, Ginny thought Kane's touch was rather patronizing. She tried not to stiffen.

"But is there a way to reverse it?" she asked. She'd understood only part of what Kane was saying, but couldn't focus her mind enough on the details right now. One thing was clear to her though - what had happened to Harry had nothing to do with the coffee Kane had given him. Ginny and Ron and Hermione had spent the weekend talking about how to find an antidote and doing research on potions and it was all for naught. And whatever had really happened sounded considerably more complicated than a mere memory draught. Ginny swallowed hard against the sudden pit in her stomach and forced herself to pay attention.

"Yes, is there?" asked Camilla. "Regardless of how 'minor' you might think Harry's emotional loss is, it's not only a much bigger thing for Ginny, but other people are likely to notice too, and say something. That can't be good for Harry's mental state." Camilla was still standing close to Ginny, and she found her presence to be continually comforting. The tears she'd been holding back all morning threatened again and she bit back a sob. It was almost too much, needing to think and act like an Auror and try to find a solution when all Ginny really wanted to do was curl up in her bed and have a good cry and hope it was all just a bad dream.

"I'll have to do some research," said Kane. "The precise combination of spells and charms I used is unique, so I'll need to untangle a few things to determine the best course of action." He gave Ginny a piercing look. "If I have some questions for you, Miss Weasley, I assume I can count on your assistance?" Unspoken was the implication - again - that Ginny had brought this on herself by refusing to help Kane earlier. She nodded. "Of course," she said quietly.

"We'll all help," said Robards. "Shep, try to recreate the spells and charms as quickly as possible so we can start working on it immediately. And for Merlin's sake everyone, keep it quiet. The last thing we need is the press to find out that the Aurors were meddling with people's memories after the War, no matter the circumstances." He shook his head. "I don't need to remind any of you, do I, that we don't operate that way anymore." Robards looked first at Kane and then at Camilla before his gaze finally rested more benevolently on Ginny. "We'll figure this out," he said kindly. "In the meantime, I suggest that your interactions with Mr. Potter remain as limited as possible. And that participate in his version of reality, so as not to disturb his memories even more."

_It's his emotions, not his memories, _Ginny wanted to say. That's what Kane had said and she grasped at that. Emotions could be regrown, couldn't they? She was too close to crying though, and didn't dare open her mouth. Fortunately, Camilla spoke for her.

"I have some tips and tricks for Ginny to help her keep her behavior around Harry as normal as possible," she said. "Things the trainees are learning anyway as part of their interview techniques module. I'll just show her individually instead." Camilla touched her arm again. "Why don't we go to my office right now? I'm sure Shep and Gawain can manage the remainder of the trainees. Annoyance hexes are a lot of fun to teach, as long as you can avoid getting hit. Once I ended up sneezing for nearly two days!" Without waiting for anyone to answer, she swept Ginny out of the office and down the hall.

Once the door was shut and silenced, Camilla sat quietly while Ginny finally gave into her tears, conjuring a cloth for Ginny to clean her face when she was done. Ginny appreciated that the woman didn't attempt empty platitudes or false assurances, but simply let her be. When her breath finally eased and the knot she'd been carrying in her stomach lessened a bit, Ginny took a deep breath and gave Camilla a watery smile. "Thank you," she said.

"Of course," said Camilla. "You impressed me back there. You were thinking like an Auror despite how personal the problem is."

"It wasn't easy," Ginny admitted. "I think if I hadn't already had the entire weekend to get used to it I would have been much more of a mess." She sighed. "We all - me, Ron and Hermione I mean, we assumed that what happened to Harry was some kind of enhanced memory charm." She paused, wondering if she should admit that they'd all thought it was the coffee. One of the first lessons they'd learned in training was not to assume the easy answer was the correct one. It was quite the opposite of the way the Muggle world worked, actually, where something called Occam's Razor instructed students to assume that the simplest answer was the right one. In magic, in contrast, _complexities were the only constant. _She'd actually quoted that very thing to Harry during one of their talks, when they'd been laughing over the fact that it had taken them far too long to get over themselves and their insecurities before they could become friends. And more. Ginny had effectively ended the discussion, she remembered, by sliding her hand into Harry's pajama bottoms. She shivered.

"Ginny?" Camilla's voice was gentle and her expression suggested she knew where Ginny's thoughts had gone. She focused back on their conversation.

"I wish it had been a memory charm," she said. The seed of fear that Kane had planted took firmer root "Those can be broken, usually. I'm actually not sure what Kane is talking about. Or if there's a solution."

Camilla gave a frustrated sigh. "We let a lot of things go in the first months after the War," she said. You heard Gawain. The Aurors were understaffed and those of us with experience were going spare trying to make sure that all former Death Eaters, even those on the fringes, were found and punished or contained." She looked seriously at Ginny. "As I think you already suspect, we didn't always agree on how to go about things, or how to identify exactly how far into the fringes we should be searching for evil. I think the homeschool legislation is a good compromise; anyone who goes to a formal school will be subject to regular oversight. But Kane still isn't convinced." She shook her head. "I don't even know exactly what he was doing with Harry. Creating a new Dark Detector, he said?"

Ginny nodded. And stopping the charm in the middle caused Harry to lose his feelings for me, even his memory of his feelings." She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes again. "Do you mind if I go home instead of training? I don't think I can face anyone today."

Camilla nodded. "I daresay, you're already the best in the class at annoyance hexes," she said. "And that's not me trying flattery to get you to so something for me, it's the truth."

Ginny gave Camilla what felt like her first real smile in days. "I appreciate that," she said. She stood to go. "I just hope Kane and Robards actually work on the problem like they said they would," she said.

"They will," said Camilla darkly. "Despite Robards' seeming calm about the issue, he was fuming, and not only because of his concern that the press will get wind of it. What Kane did, even if it was a plan borne out of the craziness after the War, well, it's not the way the Aurors operate. New charms and spells need to be discussed and tested in a controlled environment first. At any other time, there's no way Kane would have been able to develop and then implement a spell on his own like that. Especially one that apparently can have long-term side effects." She shook her head. "I know he meant well, but Kane went too far and Robards isn't going to let it happen again."

Ginny didn't voice her thoughts, that she hoped Camilla wasn't speaking only of how things would be going forward. They had to make Harry a priority now, no matter how minor the damage he suffered might seem to others. She didn't say it, however; Camilla understood. She also refrained from giving the Auror the hug she wanted to; Camilla was still her superior. Instead, Ginny nodded and thanked her again. "I'll be in tomorrow, and so will Ron," she said. "We'll figure out some way to keep an eye on Harry."

"I know you will," said Camilla. She waved her wand and a number of books flew off her shelf and floated over to her desk. "In the meantime, I'm going to read up on cleaving spells to see what I can learn about what Kane might have done. Robards won't take any action until he has a plan, especially because Harry doesn't seem to be in any imminent danger." She gave Ginny an apologetic smile. "I know you feel otherwise, and rightly so."

Ginny paused at the door. "The Auror in me knows we have to wait," she said. "I'll be okay, especially with your help."

She walked down the hall, carefully avoiding the door to the training room from which she could hear the pops and yells of the other trainees practicing. Her mind was firmly on Harry and what Ron and Hermione were going to think about what she'd learned so when Shephard Kane stepped out of his office, she almost ran into him before stopping. "I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. "I'm umm, not feeling well. I told Camilla I was going home. I'll be back tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be better by then. And Ron."

Kane ignored Ginny babbling. "I think I know something that can help Harry," he said briskly. "But I need your assistance." He gestured back into his office. "Do you have a moment to talk?"


	35. Sure We're in Love

A/N: I think this is close to the fastest I've ever written a chapter; I guess being quarantined is good for something. Plus, I have been the extremely grateful recipient of some wonderful reviews lately, and it's made me want to write more. A special thanks to Deadwoodpecker for her cheerleading, suggestions (you were totally right about the dream), and general support today and all days. Now, go write - you owe me words!

Ginny hesitated, wondering if she should find Camilla or even a different Auror to meet Kane with her. But there was no one immediately around and the pull to help Harry was too great. After a moment she gave Kane a quick nod and followed him into his office. He closed the door but did not, she noticed, either seal it or set a silencing charm. Ginny relaxed a fraction, sitting down in the chair Kane indicated. He himself sat down at his desk, leaning forward with a rather mournful look.

"I want to apologize, Ginny. I'm afraid I was not as . . . sensitive as I should have been, to hearing about how Harry's situation has affected you." He gave a small shrug. "I'll admit, I was so relieved to hear that the interruption of the spell had not resulted in a more serious memory loss that I quite lost sight of the fact that for you of course, the possible end of your relationship with Harry would be upsetting." Kane spoke mildly, but it could not mask the meaning of his words.

"The possible end of my relationship with Harry?" asked Ginny. "I thought you just said . . . you have a way to help!" She couldn't help the rise in inflection at the end of her sentence, and Kane looked swiftly at his door as if rethinking his decision not to set a silencing charm.

"Only a possibility," he said. "And as I said, I think I may have found a way around the difficulty, if you're willing to help me." Kane leaned forward expectantly; he knew what Ginny's answer would be.

_Think like an Auror, Ginny. Don't put yourself in danger on my account._Harry's voice was clear and direct and Ginny wanted to close her eyes and hope he kept speaking. But the voice did not return and after a moment Harry's message sunk in. Although Ginny had been about to tell Kane that _yes, she'd do whatever he asked,_ the shock of hearing Harry's voice was enough to make her pause.

"What exactly do you need me to do?" she asked carefully.

Kane smiled as if he knew where Ginny's thoughts had gone. Actually, she considered, he probably did know; she hadn't attempted to avoid Kane's use of Legilimency all day, hadn't even noticed if he'd been using it on her. Still he gave nothing away when he spoke.

"Why, nothing more than what I've been asking you to do since you began your training," he said. "Talk to Harry, convince him to join you here so that you can work together to finish the spell he started last year."

"Both of us," said Ginny slowly, thinking hard. "But I wasn't part of the spell when Harry began it, so why do you need me now?"

Kane spread his arms wide. "As I've said to you from the start, the benefits of being able to draw on both your and Harry's collective experience with Tom Riddle are far greater than what Harry could do alone." He inclined his head. "Just the same, if you performed the spell alone - and completed it, it would also help."

"To make a new Dark Detector," you mean," said Ginny. "What exactly will it do? If I do the spell by myself, will Harry get his memory back?"

Kane smiled again and Ginny was reminded of her brother Percy when he was being his more infuriating self. Percy had mellowed since the War had ended and since he'd met Audrey, but he'd never quite rid himself of the aura that he thought he knew more than everyone else, and wanted to make sure they knew it too. She could tell that Kane was using one of the interview techniques he had taught the trainees himself - reveal the minimum of information possible, so that the person being questioned had to ask for clarification about everything. It gave a lot of insight into what they knew and where their mind was. He'd likely tell Ginny as little as possible.

Indeed, Kane gave a casual shrug. "Just another means of seeking out Dark activity among groups of people," he said. "It should have a longer range that some of the detection methods we use now. Of course, it only works if the spell is completed," he said pointedly. "And as to whether Harry will get his memory back if you perform the spell alone . . ." Kane paused for a moment. "I'm not certain. Having both of you working together is best, by far. I'm sure you can convince him to come help." Kane stood up suddenly, signaling their talk was over. "Just send me a Patronus when the two of you are ready; I'll make sure everything is prepared here. No matter what time of day."

"Here?" Ginny asked. Somehow, she'd envisioned the spell taking place somewhere more remote, possibly even outside. It wasn't something that could be completed in one go; Harry had been working with the Aurors for nearly a near before he left, and Kane said he'd stopped the charm before it was complete. It might take weeks, months even. The pit in Ginny's stomach that had eased with Kane's offer dropped back down again. Even if he wanted to, there was no way Harry could just leave the Arrows for weeks.

"Harry had completed the more time-consuming parts of the spell before he left," Kane said, and Ginny realized she'd let her thoughts be read again. "The last bit is the trickiest, but it shouldn't take too long." He gave her a piercing look. "I'm sure you can convince him, Ginny.

Ginny took a deep breath but didn't trust her voice for a moment. "And if we come together, Harry will get his memory back?" she finally asked.

Kane paused for another moment, a pause Ginny didn't like. But he nodded. "I can nearly assure it," he said.

Ginny didn't have a choice. "I'll send my Patronus," she said before rushing out. No matter what else he knew, she was not going to let Shepard Kane see her cry.

HPHPHPHP

"Are you feeling better? I think Hermione made some tea." Harry stretched and leaned down to touch his toes, massaging his calf muscles. His run that morning had been a long one. "Sounds like Dam caught something too - hopefully just a cold like you have." He looked around the flat. "So I'll forgive you for not making coffee," he said with a grin.

Ron grimaced. "I have a cold, but I heard they think Dam might have Doxy flu," he said, his voice thick and stuffy-sounding. "We got a floo call while you were on your run; probably a good thing to stay around here for a day or two so no one else catches it."

Harry nodded. "Good thing we have a couple days off from playing. Hopefully he's better by Saturday. I assume they've contacted Callum though, in case he needs to play Keeper instead." He looked around. "D'you think Hermione is out of the shower? I need to get in."

"I'm done," she said, coming down the hallway toweling her hair. Harry snorted. "Are you a witch or what? Why not do that magically?"

Hermione shrugged. Old Muggle habit, I guess. "I've never been that good at beauty charms anyway." She glanced quickly at Ron. "Maybe I should, uhh, ask Ginny to help me. Her hair always looks nice."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Like Ginny cares about how she looks most of the time," he said. It was a rather _Ron_ comment to make, he thought. Truth was, Harry had been watching Ginny's hair since Fifth Year, and yes it did always look nice, whether it was pulled back in a messy ponytail or falling straight down her back the way her mum liked her to fix it. He shook his head. "She'd just as likely hex your hair as fix it." Ron and Hermione exchanged a look and Harry backtracked, thinking he'd gone too far. "Probably not hex," he said said quickly. "But maybe you should ask someone like Parvati?"

"I'll do that, yes," said Hermione. She looked troubled. Harry didn't really want to get involved; likely she and Ron were disagreeing about paint colors or something similar again. "Right then," I'll just take my shower," he said. But before he could take two steps towards the loo, there was a knock at the door.

"Ron?"

Harry looked at Ron. "Why isn't Ginny at work?"

"I don't know," said Ron grimly. He waved his wand to open the door. Ginny came in and looked at the three of them.

"I . . . I wasn't feeling well, so I came home," she said.

Harry sighed. It would be a miracle if he avoided getting sick himself. "You too?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be back in your own flat then? Ron's got a cold, Dam apparently has Doxy flu, and you've got . . . what?"

"Just a cold too," said Ginny. "I came by to see if you have any tea." She wrinkled her nose. "Did you just get back from a run?"

"Yes, and I was just about to get in the shower, so no need to comment on how I smell, thank you very much." For some reason, Harry felt himself flush. _Of course Ginny would mention that. _

Ginny nodded. "Good. Take a shower. We'd all appreciate it."

"Fine, I wouldn't want to offend your delicate sense of smell," he said, feeling unaccountably cross. His good mood from the run evaporating, Harry turned on his heel. Hopefully the shower would cool him off.

Unfortunately, Harry usually reserved shower time for something else, and often enough, that _something else_ involved the type of thoughts of Ginny that would likely have a negative effect on his welcome at the Burrow, were anyone else to know about them. He couldn't help it, though; he'd been wanking to progressively more explicit thoughts of her since he was fifteen and he'd never been able to stop, no matter how smarmy they might treat each other in real life. Today was no different, although the image that popped into Harry's head as he turned on the shower and pulled off his sweaty running clothes was a new one. Usually in Harry's shower fantasies, he watched from afar, hidden, as Ginny did something physical - flying and running with very few clothes on figured prominently, as did her showering after said activities. Once he'd imagined her jumping into the pond at the Burrow completely naked after a run while he watched from behind a tree, his hand pumping frantically as Ginny swam and dove and floated.

But this time was completely different. For one, Harry wasn't hidden, watching Ginny from a distance without her knowing This time, the Ginny in his head was much closer, indeed, she seemed to be lying on her side right across from him, and Harry was lying down too - on a bed he wasn't sure he recognized. It was piled with pillows and comfy blankets and he felt like he should know where it was, but the answer danced at just outside the edge of his brain. It didn't matter though, because what Ginny herself was doing was much more interesting. She met his eyes and smiled before they traveled lower, slowly taking in his body. Harry realized he was naked, and Ginny was watching him carefully, and then she was reaching across the space between them to stroke him softly. It was so different from the way Harry gripped himself now, and his hands fell away from his body as Ginny's fingers teased up and down his shaft. Her forehead was wrinkled in concentration and for a wild moment, Harry wished she'd speak to him. Instead, she moved her hands to grasp him more firmly and Harry moved his own hands back to his wet skin, feeling her pump, awkwardly at first and then . . . Harry climaxed hard, white spurting across the tiles before he'd even had a chance to establish a proper rhythm. He had to brace himself against the wall of the shower he was shaking so hard, both with the intensity of his orgasm and surprise. _Where had that thought come from?_

Harry was still wondering to himself as he finished his shower and dressed, thinking of the way Ginny had looked at him and touched him in his daydream. Had she even been wearing a shirt? So intent was he in trying to remember as much as he could that he was totally unprepared to see the real Ginny, sitting on the sofa in his flat, apparently deep in conversation with Ron and Hermione. He stuttered to a stop, surprise making his words more harsh than he intended. "What, you're still here?" he asked. "I thought you were going home so you didn't infect the rest of us."

Ginny didn't respond with the sharp retort Harry expected. Instead, she looked at Ron and Hermione for a long moment. Ron nodded and Ginny nodded back before she looked up at Harry.

"I'm not sick and neither is Ron," she said.

Harry barked a laugh, feeling a bit of relief that he would apparently not be catching anything from them. "Skiving off work already? Do you think that's a good idea for a trainee?" He flopped down at the other end of the sofa from Ginny, trying to push the image of her from his shower out of his mind. She looked seriously at him, biting her lower lip, which didn't help. Harry kicked at her leg with his foot. "What's going on?"

"Harry, do you remember that Shepard Kane's been asking me to have you come . . . back to the Aurors, that there's something he wanted your help with, and mine?

Harry frowned. "I thought it was Robards." He vaguely recalled Ginny complaining about it when she'd first started her training.

Ginny nodded. "Well yes, Gawain wanted me to speak to the other trainees about my experience - and yours - in the Chamber, but it was Shepard Kane who kept asking me if you'd return to . . . complete what you'd started for . . . what you'd started."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, and you told him off, right? That there's nothing I have for him or Robards or anyone else." He grimaced, feeling tired all of a sudden. "Why's Kane bugging you about me anyway? I barely worked with him." Harry rubbed at his eyes.

"Actually Harry, we think maybe you worked with Shepard Kane more than you remem . . . realize." Hermione spoke in a soothing tone that Harry found somewhat patronizing. "I think Ginny has some important information we all need to listen to."

It was clear to Harry that everyone else in the room already knew what this information was; he was the only one not in the know. It made him feel oddly irritated, hearing them talk about the Aurors and Harry's participation with them so frankly. Normally no one - not even Ron - pushed Harry about his past activities with them, not after Harry had made it clear that he was well and finished there. He was perfectly happy to hear about what Ron was doing in training, and Ginny too, he supposed. He'd even enjoyed using his knowledge to help them, especially with things like those crazy fan-witches who kept trying to break into the building for autographs. But that's where it ended; Harry had no interest in _completing_anything he'd started, even assuming that there was anything to complete in the first place.

Still, he trusted Ron and Hermione more than pretty much anyone else in the world. And Ginny was . . . well, Harry just hoped she didn't know Legilimency, because he was having more than a usual amount of trouble getting his earlier daydream out of his head. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. The least he could do was listen.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny seemed to be having a silent conversation with each other. Ginny looked at him and Harry felt a jolt in his groin, remembering. This time though, her eyes didn't travel downward and her expression held none of the curiosity from his dream. She took a deep breath.

"There was a spell, one you were working on," she began. "We don't know a lot about it, but it never got finished. It's important that it get finished." Ginny stopped and shook her head to herself. "I'm not making sense." She looked at Ron. "Should I?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know."

"Should you what?" asked Harry. "Obviously there's something you all know that I don't and I don't understand why you won't just tell me." He didn't even try to keep the petulance out of his voice. The huge shift from what he'd done and thought in the shower to what the real Ginny was sitting here telling him made Harry unaccountably tense. She wasn't making any sense, and he told her so.

"Why are you trying to explain all this anyway? Why not Ron? It's not like you and I are . . ." Harry stopped himself. True, he and Ginny weren't really friends, but he didn't have to come out and say so. He certainly didn't dislike her; his completely unrealistic fantasies were proof of that if nothing else. But he couldn't understand why she was looking at him so intently as if she was the one he'd naturally want to listen to. A thought struck him. "Is this about the Chamber?" He gave Ron an annoyed look; Ron should have warned him if he was going to tell Ginny the truth about who'd really been the one to save her. Harry had been perfectly fine with letting Ginny believe it had been Ron down there, but he'd have appreciated some warning if Ron was going to tell her the real story. Ginny bit her lip.

"It's kind of about the Chamber, yes," she said. "There are things that happened to us that Shepard Kane thinks could be useful in creating a better and more effective way to detect dark magic. But you'd have to come with me. To finish the spell you were working on when you left the Aurors." At the other end of the sofa, Ginny's eyes were wide and for a moment, Harry felt himself getting lost in them. Then her words penetrated.

"You're asking me to come with you . . . into the Chamber? To do a spell?" He rubbed at his temples, trying to make sense of Ginny's words. _Why does she sound like she's about to cry?_

"Not into the Chamber, no," said Ginny, sounding confused. "But yes, I want you to come help me finish the spell you started last year. It's really important."

"You keep saying that, and I keep telling you that you're wrong; I didn't start any spell with Shepard Kane last year." Harry was starting to feel irritated that no one believed him. He saw Ron and Ginny exchange a look and his irritation grew. "What?" he asked.

Ron leaned forward. "It's just this, mate. You _did_ start a spell with Kane, but for some reason, you don't remember that right now. You uhh, don't remember a few things actually. And we're trying to figure out how to get them back."

"What kind of things do I supposedly not remember?" Harry tried to keep his voice calm but it was getting more difficult. "Because I haven't noticed anything." Ron and Ginny exchanged another look. Harry looked at Hermione. "Did you know about this too?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry. But they're telling the truth."

"Telling the truth about what? What have I forgotten?" Harry stood up and walked over to the kitchen, intending to get a glass of butterbeer or water or something. He couldn't sit still and his head was pounding from trying to absorb the information. He heard the words, that he'd supposedly forgotten being part of some important dark magic detection spell organized by Shepard Kane, but Harry was having trouble believing it. He'd seen memory spells before - more times than he would have liked - and the results were usually messy and complicated. Harry didn't feel any different than he always had, didn't have any gaps in his memory or confusion about his life, other than trying to understand what Ron and Hermione and Ginny were saying to him right now. He shook his head as he opened the door to the icebox. "What have I forgotten?" he asked again. There was a beat of silence.

"Me." Ginny's voice was quiet but it carried through the flat as if she was shouting. "You've forgotten that you're in love with me."

Butterbeer in hand, Harry carefully closed the icebox, trying to keep the smile off his face. "Ahh, so that's it," he said. "Of course. I forgot I was in love with Ginny." He turned to face the room. "And I assume she's in love with me too, right?" He found Ginny's face. "Are you? In love with me too, I mean. And does your family know?" He made a show of looking around the flat. "I don't see any of your brothers lying in wait to lecture me and it doesn't seem like your mum has sent extra pudding, so I'm going to guess that it's still a secret from everyone, right?" He lifted his butterbeer in a mock toast. "Cheers to us, I guess." He took a long pull, expecting that everyone would grin and give up the game. Instead there was more silence.

"Harry, mate," Ron finally said. "It's . . ."

"No Ron, let me." Ginny's voice was still quiet, but firm. She stood up and walked over to Harry. He could see what looked like unshed tears at the corners of her eyes, but her gaze was steady as she looked at him.

"We _are_telling the truth," she said. "You started a spell with Kane last year, and when you left it uncompleted, it affected your memory somehow, or your emotions." Ginny was trembling but her eyes didn't leave his. Harry wanted to back up but he couldn't make himself move. "It only started happening recently. Until this week, you and I . . . we . . ." Ginny took a deep breath. "I promise I'm not making it up," she said. "And I'll do anything to get you back." A single tear finally trickled down her cheek and she impatiently brushed it away and reached out her hand. "You need to come with me to the Ministry," she said. "Shepard Kane said that if you and I finish the spell, together, it will bring back your memory. And we'll help the Aurors too, they'll have a new way to uncover Dark Magic." She took a step closer. "So I need you to come with me now, I promised Kane I'd get you to help me." She took a deep breath and touched Harry's arm. "Will you?"

Harry jumped back as if he'd been burned. "No," he said brusquely. He pulled his arm away from Ginny. "I'm not going to the Ministry and I'm not doing any more spells" He shook his head with disgust. "I can't believe you'd even ask me to do something like that." Without looking at anyone, he stomped off to his room.

HPHPHPHP

"Let him go." Hermione's voice betrayed her own pain. She stood up and walked over to Ginny. Ron came too and Ginny fell into their arms. "What's wrong with him, why didn't he believe us?" she asked. She couldn't even bring herself to cry.

Hermione shook her head. "I think the shock was too much," she said. "It can be painful to be confronted with the effects of a memory charm, or with whatever that spell did to him. He might need some time to let it absorb." She gave Ginny an apologetic look. "And I'm sorry, but I think you should go back to your flat for a while. When Harry's ready to come out, he's likely to be more willing to listen to me and Ron if you're not here."

Ginny knew Hermione was right, still, it was difficult to think that she was the reason for Harry's distress. She nodded. "Send me a Patronus as soon as you can," she said. She turned to her brother. "You'll get him to see reason, won't you? He'll listen to you, I know it."

Ron gave her a hug. "I'll do everything I can, Ginny, I promise."

With a final look towards Harry's room, Ginny went back to her own flat. After carefully setting a silencing charm, she waved her wand. _Expecto Patronum,_she said firmly. As soon as her horse appeared, she began to speak. "Shepard, it's Ginny Weasley. I need to see you tonight. I . . . I want to start the spell myself; we can't wait for Harry."


	36. Ginny Decides, Harry Reverses

Ginny had been to the Ministry after business hours on several occasions over the years, but she'd always been accompanying her father. It had been a place of creepy wonder when she was a child, full of looming shadows and secret alcoves where all manner of monster might hide in the dark. She'd loved going there.

But now, the wonder was gone and Ginny found the shadows and alcoves to be just . . . creepy. As she walked across the Ministry's towering lobby, her eyes were drawn to the wide stairway that led into the lower depths of the building. She gave those stairs wide berth as she walked to the lifts; the Ministry at night was where her father had almost been killed by a giant snake, trying to protect the prophecy about Harry Potter from falling to Voldemort.

Or Tom Riddle, as Ginny always thought of him. It was a habit born of a young girl's horror at discovering that evil could be handsome and charming and therefore even more dangerous. After she'd recovered from the Chamber, Ginny had found comfort in calling Voldemort Tom because it took away some of his power over her. That Dumbledore often referred to him the same way was a comfort as well.

The sound of the lift echoed through empty floors in a way it never did during the bustle of the day, so even if Ginny had wanted to hide her arrival from Kane it would have been impossible. She had already rounded the corner into Auror headquarters and caught sight of him when it occurred to her that it had been rather stupid - not to mention extremely un-Aurorlike - not to tell anyone where she'd gone. Some of the adrenaline that had propelled her to contact Kane and rush to the Ministry in the middle of the night was being replaced by a healthy and more rational fear of what she'd gotten herself into, and she could almost hear Ron's voice chiding her. Even if Kane hadn't taken Harry's memory with the coffee, Ginny still suspected he wasn't being completely honest with her. She had no idea what he was holding back though, and the fact that she'd not been careful enough to block his Legilimency these past few days made her feel even more like he had the upper hand. It was too late now, though.

Ginny wasn't sure what she expected - cauldrons bubbling with potions, a big open space in which to cast spells, something - but headquarters looked the same as it did during the day. All the lights were on and Kane was looking over a sheaf of parchment that was covered in a messy scrawl of words and circular diagrams. He seemed supremely relaxed. After a moment he put the parchment aside and gestured her to sit down at one of the desks used by the departmental assistants. He sat too, rolling up the parchments and banishing them with a flick of his wand.

"So, you were unable to convince Mr. Potter to come with you?" he asked. "I have to admit, I'm rather surprised. After hearing what the incomplete spell did to him, the Harry I knew would not have slept until he was able to make it right." Kane peered at her, and once again, Ginny got the feeling the man was blaming her for not succeeding in producing Harry.

"Well, he doesn't remember working for you either," she said. It had been a subject of debate with Ron and Hermione, whether to only tell Harry that he'd forgotten about working with Kane and leave out the fact that he'd forgotten Ginny too. The first time Ginny had told Harry that he didn't remember working with Kane, at that private dinner that seemed a million years ago, he'd been concerned but calm. After the memory loss had grown to include Ginny, Hermione wanted to keep that detail from Harry and start only by telling him again about Kane - they had disagreed about it the entire time Harry had been in the shower earlier that night. He'd been gone a long time, long enough for Ginny to finally convince Hermione that Harry needed to know how his memory loss had grown. Of course, it turned out that telling him everything had been an unmitigated disaster.

This was the first thing Ginny had said that seemed to cause Kane any surprise. He sat up straight. "He doesn't remember working with me last year." It didn't sound like a question.

Ginny shook her head. "Even before he'd forgotten me, we - Ron and Hermione too - noticed that Harry remembered working with Camilla Stalk and Robards but didn't have a lot of memories of doing anything for you. He got almost angry when we told him tonight. That means his memory loss actually is getting worse, doesn't it? That's why I came here so quickly. Before he loses more."

Kane didn't seem to have heard Ginny. He rubbed at his eyes and Ginny saw his mouth tighten. "Damn. I didn't think about . . . it should have occurred to me," he muttered. Then he seemed to remember that Ginny was there and looked up. "This complicates things," he said grimly. "That Harry doesn't remember what he'd started."

Ginny didn't want to ask but she had to. "Does that mean there's nothing we can do to get his memory back? Even if I finish the spell myself?" She couldn't keep her voice from wavering.

Kane was deep in thought. At last he looked up and seemed to notice Ginny's distress. "I don't think all hope is lost, Miss Weasley," he said slowly. "And I think, yes." He nodded half to himself. "I think that if you are able to complete the spell yourself, the . . . power you collect within it can be used to heal Harry." He stood up quickly, suddenly looking much more alert. "In fact, I'm almost certain of it. But we need to hurry - if Harry is losing more memories, the sooner you complete the spell, the better." He held out his hand. "Let me show you what you need to do."

Ginny didn't accept Kane's hand, but she stood up as well. "Please show me," she said.

Kane gestured down the hallway. "This way," he said. Ginny assumed they might be going to one of the magically enlarged rooms the trainees used to practice dueling and other activities that required a lot of space. Instead, Kane turned down the corridor that held the private offices of the most senior Aurors and walked almost to the end, stopping at a door that looked rather like a broom closet. "You'll have to enter alone, I'm afraid," he said. "The spell is designed to accept only those individuals who have a physical connection to Voldemort."

"So only Harry and me, you mean," said Ginny flatly. She knew there were spells that only worked for or against certain people, but they were very high level magic and something the trainees hadn't learned yet. She also didn't understand why she needed to enter a closet to perform the spell. "What's inside?"

"It's an environment best suited to the effective removal of the essence of your possession by Voldemort."

"The what?!" Ginny felt a thrum of horror. "I don't still have any 'essence of possession' inside of me." Indeed, that had been the very first thing she'd asked Dumbledore as soon as she'd been able after Ron - no, Harry - had rescued her from the Chamber. "There's nothing left, there hasn't been since Harry stabbed the diary." Of this she was sure, and the thought that she may have unknowingly been harboring a bit of Voldemort inside her all these years was unconceivable. "It's impossible," she said.

Kane was shaking his head. "No, no, you misunderstand," he said soothingly. "There is no physical possession inside of you, of course. Or in Harry. But an event of that magnitude leaves a . . . signature, if you will. One that I've been working to isolate and remove to a magical object for use in uncovering dark magic within other places and other people." He gestured to the door again. "The removal of that signature is best accomplished within an environment related to the original possession. Your mind is more amenable to a reversion back to those moments, you see."

Ginny didn't see, not really, and she still didn't understand what was behind the door Kane was now opening. "Does it hurt? What do I do inside?"

Kane shook his head. "It doesn't hurt, but you might find the experience emotionally disconcerting, at first." He smiled suddenly. "You've been inside a Pensive before?"

Ginny flushed, remembering her trip into Harry's Pensieve and how looking at all her memories had been such tangible evidence that she loved him. She nodded and Kane gave a hum of approval. "Well, this is not much different than a Pensieve," he said. "But instead of taking your memories, the spell will remove the essence of your interactions with Voldemort." He gave Ginny a knowing look. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind having every last bit of that experience removed, would you?" He smiled. "Harry liked that idea too, you know."

A thought had flitted through Ginny's head then, something she needed to ask, but at Kane's mention of Harry it disappeared again. "I bet he did," she said. She could imagine just how much Harry would want to purge anything left of Voldemort inside him. What he'd lived with was so much worse than what Ginny had - a piece of soul inside of him for all those years. Ginny had felt sick the first time she'd heard the entire story, and that was back when she'd still thought of Harry as mostly an irritating prat. She looked through the door Kane had opened. "What's inside?" she asked again, rather expecting Kane to tell her that she would have to find out for herself.

"It's a model of the Chamber," he said. He shrugged modestly. "And a fairly good one, if I do say so myself considering that I've never seen the real one." He inclined his head at her. "You of course will be able to tell me later if I missed any details."

Ginny stared at Kane. "Why the fuck would you create a model of the Chamber?" She looked into the doorway but it was too dark to see anything. "Is there a Basilisk down there?" Another thought came to her. "Did Harry help build it?"

Kane shook his head and his mouth quirked. "No, there is no Basilisk," he said. "It's not important." He pushed the door open a little wider. "You may find it a bit disconcerting at first, but I don't think the disorientation will last too long." He didn't quite give Ginny a shove but the intent was obvious. Ginny didn't move. Despite the urge to help Harry she knew there were still questions she needed to ask.

"What do I do once I get down there? Isn't there a spell or something you need to teach me first?" Harry had been working on it for months; how could Kane expect Ginny to just drop into the middle of the spell knowing nothing? She took a step back from the door. "I want to help Harry but I'm not a complete idiot," she said. "You need to tell me more first."

Kane gave her an approving smile. "You've never let me push you around, have you?" he asked. He sighed. "I forget that you don't know as much as Harry did, but I can assure you with all confidence that it will all become clear once you are in the Chamber. The model of the Chamber, I mean. The spell itself is already cast, you just have to open your mind and let it play out. Like a Pensieve."

"Will Tom be there?" Ginny wasn't scared of him, not anymore, but if she was going to be met with one of her old memories of Tom Riddle from the diary, she rather wanted to be prepared.

Kane nodded. "I'd expect so," he said. "He can't hurt you, of course."

"Of course," agreed Ginny. She took a step towards the door again. "And my being down there, it will help Harry get his memory, right?"

Kane smiled again. "As I said earlier, I thing, and hope it will help Harry get his memory back. At the least, completing the . . . spell should halt any additional loss. And moreover, it will create a new, and immensely useful Dark Detector, one that is likely to make any fear of the rise of another evil like Voldemort extremely unlikely." His voice was calm. "No other young child will ever have to endure what you . . . and Harry did. Completing the spell will assure that. And isn't that why you joined the Aurors in the first place?"

The longer Kane had been talking, the less afraid Ginny was. He was an experienced wizard, knew much more than she, and he could have overpowered her a dozen times already tonight. Instead, he'd answered all of her questions. Yes, he was a little too heavy handed with his use of Legilimency, but Ginny couldn't fault him his passion for destroying Dark Magic. She looked into the doorway one last time. "And I just go in, and I'll be in the Chamber?" she asked.

"A rather excellent facsimile of the Chamber," Kane corrected her. "I suppose I could have set up the spell inside the real one at Hogwarts, but that seemed excessive. It's the memories and emotions that the place evokes, not the real place itself, that matters." He gestured with his hand. "So, will you help me? And help Harry?"

Ginny took a deep breath. It occurred to her that Harry himself had been inside the spell with no ill effects, but for the memory loss that came from stopping it in the middle. But she planned to see it through to the end. She nodded. "I'm ready," she said, walking through the door.

HPHPHPHP

Ron was up early the next morning, and it was no wonder. He'd sent Hermione to sleep in his room but he hadn't left the sofa, wanting to know if Harry tried to leave or something in the night. He didn't, but Ron slept fitfully anyway, waking up to a stiff neck and sore back. A hot shower helped loosen his muscles and after kissing his girlfriend and getting dressed, he shuffled to the kitchen to make coffee, wondering how Ginny was doing. He suspected she hadn't slept either.

A sound behind him made him turn, expecting to see Hermione. Instead, to his surprise, Harry was there, looking slightly abashed and holding out his mug. "Mind if I have some?" he asked.

Ron quickly poured Harry some coffee and then sat down at the kitchen table. He drank his coffee and waited and after a moment, Harry joined him. Ron stayed quiet.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper last night," Harry said finally.

Ron shrugged. "We threw a lot of stuff at you at once," he said.

"And I don't remember any of it," said Harry flatly. He rubbed at his eyes. "It's completely disconcerting to hear to be sure. I mean, me and Ginny?" Ron opened his mouth to answer but Harry immediately held up his hands. "Actually, don't tell me. If it's really true - and I'm going to believe it is because there's no way you'd make up something like that as a joke - well I think it's something I need to talk about with Ginny first, if she wants, of course." He took a sip of his coffee and Ron saw a faint blush climbing his cheeks. Ron smiled to himself. _Looks like Harry still has his crush, at least. Ginny will like hearing that. _He changed the subject.

"And what about Kane? You don't remember anything you did with him?"

Harry shook his head. "I mean, I remember working with him a bit, but more that he was around like Camilla and Robards were. I certainly don't remember any specific spell to create a new Dark Detector or anything." He grimaced. "But that doesn't explain why I got so angry. I was confused and all, I kind of in disbelief, but then I exploded." He looked distraught. "And I exploded at Ginny of all people. If she and I have really been . . . I mean, I can only imagine how much I hurt her."

"Ginny's tougher than you know," said Ron. He grimaced. "I mean, she's tougher than you know right now. Yeah, she's upset, but she's also incredibly determined to fix all this, to fix you." Ron smirked, the need for some sort of normalcy making him speak more frankly than he normally would about the topic. "And not just because she misses the sex, although I'm sure that's part of it."

Harry choked, spitting his coffee across the table. He looked at Ron, eyes streaming. "S-s-sex? Ginny and I, we . . . are you sure?" The blush was back, deeper now. Ron grinned at him.

"Oh, quite sure. Your sex life has actually been the subject of . . . actually, I'm going to wait to tell you exactly what I know. It'll be fun to see you hear about it all over again." For a wild second, Ron considered telling Harry about the poster. But he'd already pushed Harry's memory more than was probably safe. "Let's just say that once Ginny figures all this out, I don't expect to see either of you for at least a week."

Harry took a deep breath. "I think I look forward to that," he said. He pushed back from the table and stood up. "Actually, I'd like to apologize to Ginny in person, if you think she'll talk to me." He grimaced. "In my mind, she still thinks I'm properly annoying most of the time you know. A right prat."

Ron stood up too. "I think she'd like to hear an apology from you," he said. He took a risk. "Actually if you wanted to do what she asked, and go with her to see what Kane wants, I bet she'd like that even more."

Even before Harry spoke, Ron knew he'd gone too far. He could tell Harry was trying not to explode again, but his expression shuttered and he turned roughly away, breathing hard. After a minute, he spoke. "I . . . can't. I'm sorry Ron. But no. I'm not joining Ginny to help Kane. I just . . . can't."

Ron let it drop immediately. "Of course not, mate. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Harry got control of his emotions much more quickly this time. "It's okay," he said. "I think. I don't know what keeps coming over me." He looked at Ron. "Do you think it's getting worse?"

"I don't know," said Ron. "I guess anything's possible. But Hermione said that disorientation is common with memory charms, so maybe you're just reacting to trying to remember something that isn't there right now."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry. He looked troubled. "I'd still like to apologize to Ginny though."

"She'd still like it," said Ron. "And I don't think she'll mention . . . anything."

"Good," nodded Harry. He stretched. "Can we stop by her flat now?"

Ron stifled a knowing grin. "Let's get dressed and all first," he said. "And get Hermione. She'll want to walk with us to work."

But twenty minutes later, there was no answer at Ginny's door. Ron ran his hand through his hair. "I doubt she's sleeping in," he said. "Probably went to the Ministry early to try to talk to Camilla." He looked at Hermione. "It's not too cold out, d'you want to walk?"

As Hermione nodded, Harry broke in. "I'd like to go too," he said. It was clear to Ron that his behavior towards Ginny was weighing heavy on Harry's mind.

Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. "To the Ministry? To Auror headquarters?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe she can meet me in the lobby. I just want to . . . I was a prat to her for something that wasn't her fault." He rocked back and forth on his feet. "I mean, we're always kind of prats to each other, but usually she gives as good as she gets. At least, that's what I remember. Apparently that's changed." He shrugged. "I just don't think it's fair of me to be, I don't know, like I am to her, if it's not what she's expecting. So I'll just apologize to her for my behavior and then leave her alone so I don't upset her again."

Behind Harry's back, Ron looked swiftly at Hermione, warning her not to say anything. Of course, Harry leaving Ginny alone was going to upset her as much, or even more, than him yelling at her. That Harry didn't understand that was as much evidence as any how much he'd lost. Ron wished he could figure out a way to convince Harry to just listen to what Ginny had to say about working together. He tried to go over the conversations in his head to figure out exactly what had caused Harry to get so angry. It clearly wasn't the news that he and Ginny were together - really together. If anything, Ron had recognized more than a little interest on Harry's part to learn that he and Ginny had had sex. Ron smirked to himself over the thought that Harry was probably kicking himself right now over his inability to remember. Was it the mention of Kane? That was likely to be it, especially since Harry had so little recollection of his interactions with the man over the course of an entire year. Given that, Harry's decision to go to the Ministry to find Ginny was more worrisome; he'd have to think of a reason for Harry not to go up to Auror headquarters if they couldn't get Ginny to come down to the lobby instead.

Ron was so lost in thought he didn't realize that Harry and Hermione had stopped walking until he nearly ran into their backs.

". . . like the cold weather too, I see," an accented voice was saying. Ron looked up to see four identically clad women wrapped in elaborate fur cloaks standing on the sidewalk in front of them. Katerina Bellows pushed back her hood and let her blonde curls fall about her face while she continued speaking. "I thought we'd be the only ones out today," she said. "This weather reminds us all of our home." She gestured behind her. "You know my sisters, I presume? Nadia, Zoya, and Sascha." Each of the women nodded in turn. Zoya leaned over to whisper something to Nadia - probably complaining that she'd not been able to get any good dirt to turn into one of her ridiculous Prophet articles lately - but Sasha was the one who spoke next.

"Yes, we do like the winter," she said. "Of course, our parents taught us particularly good warming charms and spells when we were growing up. We hardly notice the temperature now." She nodded at the steaming mugs Ron and Hermione were holding and smirked . "I assume Harry got some of the coffee too? I mixed it especially for him, you know. I've been wanting to see exactly what Shepard did with it."

Ron's spell to contain the four Bellows sisters was only a hair slower than Harry's was. They all looked equally shocked and angry, fighting against the invisible bands that held them in place. "What the fuck did you do that for?" sputtered Katerina.

Ron ignored her. He put his hand up to quiet Harry, who also looked ready to start yelling. "Hermione, can you disillusion all of us please? There are Muggles about."

Hermione silently waved her wand over the group and Ron felt the familiar privacy spells wash over them. "Thanks," he muttered. He pointed his wand at Sasha. "What do you mean about the coffee?" he asked tersely.

Sasha shrugged as much as she could, given her confinement. "You know I make potions for the Aurors, don't you?" she asked, her accent getting stronger as she spoke. Ron nodded. "And you were disguised at a server at the pub the other night and gave a bunch of us a drink that . . . loosened our memories," he said. "Didn't you?"

Sasha nodded. "I was practicing with my brewing techniques then. We figured we'd try it out at the pub; hoped Harry would drink some and reveal confidences that would make a good article." She nodded at her sister. "Zoya was there too, hoping to hear gossip." She shook her head. "But that Ginny Weasley figured it out before Harry could have one of the red drinks and ruined our plan," she said.

"I haven't sold anything to the Prophet in weeks," Zoya complained.

"No wonder the reporting on our games has been more accurate than usual," remarked Harry dryly. He looked at Ron. "What does coffee have to do with anything?"

Ron realized they'd never told Harry that part of the story, seeing as they'd rejected the idea of tainted coffee as soon as Kane had told them about the interrupted spell. He frowned, not wanting to reveal too much in front of the Bellows; there was no doubt that learning that Harry Potter had lost his memory would be worth at least two front page articles if they found out. He shifted his weight, pressing his arm against Harry's just slightly and saw Harry give the tiniest nod back. He'd stay quiet, Ron knew. He turned back to Sasha.

"Did you make some special coffee for Shepard Kane?" he asked. He didn't know what he'd do if the woman denied it or feigned memory loss.

But Sasha nodded proudly. "He says I'm the most skilled potions maker he's seen in a long time, couldn't believe I learned everything at home from my parents."

Ron exchanged a look with Hermione. "You were homeschooled?" she asked carefully.

Nadia answered. "Yes, all of us were, in Russia," she said. "But don't worry, the Aurors interviewed us quite thoroughly when we moved to England, to make sure our magic was adequate and there was nothing Dark about it."

"Shepard Kane interviewed you?" asked Hermione.

"He interviewed each of us, yes. Individually. "That's when he learned about my skills with potions and hired me to help the Aurors. They've been without a formal potions master since the War ended."

Hermione looked fascinated by the information and probably would have kept questioning Sasha about her experience with Russian homeschooling had Ron not cleared his throat.

"Sorry," she muttered to him. He gave her a smile and grabbed one of her hands to squeeze.

"What about the coffee?" he asked.

"It was a tricky potion, to add it to dried coffee beans," Sasha said. "I prepped them and mixed the ingredients to be added, but there were a few last steps Kane wanted to do himself. Most of the work was mine though."

"What was the coffee supposed to do?" asked Ron casually. "Another memory charm like the red drink? That was a pretty tricky one itself."

Sasha inflated proudly and Ron stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "This one was much more targeted," she said. "I brewed it to be able to isolate specific memories of Harry's and also to make it affect him alone. It probably tasted rather bitter to anyone else."

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. While Ron was relieved to hear that neither he nor Hermione would be suffering from memory loss, there was other information he needed to know without revealing too much to the Bellows.

"Sooo, it was designed to make . . . Harry reveal a lot about one particular subject?" asked Ron carefully. Next to him both Hermione and Harry stayed silent, clearing understanding the ruse.

Sasha shrugged again. "Something like that," she agreed. "But don't ask me what the subject was; that was what Kane wanted to figure out himself because it had something to do with Auror business. I just set up everything else."

Ron knew he had to ask the next question. "Is it possible that the potion, brewed differently, could be used to make someone forget the subject instead of talk too much about it?"

Sasha gave Ron a sharp look. "What do you know? she asked. She looked quickly around. "Shepard asked me the same thing, said he wanted to make sure he avoided making any mistakes." She grimaced and lowered her voice. "I didn't believe him, but . . ." she stopped and looked at Katerina. "Can I tell them?"

Katerina's face was uncharacteristically grim. She looked from Ron to Hermione to Harry, her demeanor devoid of its normal flirting. She nodded. "I think you should. I . . . I don't trust Kane," she said. She glanced at her other sisters and they both nodded. "He was intrusive when he interviewed each of us about our parents," she said. "I didn't like it. He . . . he seemed to know things he shouldn't."

Ron nodded. "That seems to be a common theme with him," he said. He waited, and after another moment, Sasha spoke.

"The potion can be used to extract a memory too," she admitted. "But I refused to do it for Kane, although he asked."

"Why did you refuse?"

"Because it is a terrible thing, to take someone's memory," broke in Zoya hotly. "What we do, it's all for fun and gossip. It sells papers." She shook her head. "It doesn't make people forget anything permanently." A tear snaked down her cheek and Ron released the bonds around the sisters enough to free their hands. Nadia put her arm around Zoya and spoke softly to her in Russian.

But Ron couldn't focus on what sort of memory-related damage had been done to the Bellows in the past. "Permanently?" Harry croaked. "You mean that I'll never remember . . . Gi - it?" He stopped himself but his face was tortured.

Sasha wrung her hands. "I didn't tell him how to do it, I promise," she said. "It's much trickier than what's needed to make someone talk to much. But he might have gotten the information from me anyway. I didn't even realize he was reading my thoughts at first; I don't know what he got from me." She looked at Harry. "If it's true, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Harry brushed off the apology. "I know," he said. "But is it permanent?"

"I don't know," said Sasha. "If I had brewed the potion then yes, whatever bit of information was removed would have stayed lost. The brain can relearn it, but the original memory is gone. But I'm not sure Kane knows enough to do it right. He was impatient, and I don't think he was able to get everything from my mind. So maybe it could come back." She looked at Harry. "It depends on how important the memory was to you before, and how different things are now that it's gone."

"Is it about Quidditch?" asked Katerina. "Or something related to that?"

Harry shook his head. "No, nothing like that," he said. He rubbed at his eyes. "But yeah, it's something pretty important." He looked at Ron. "At least, I think it's important."

"Wait," said Hermione. "You brewed the coffee potion just a week or two ago, right?" Her face was creased in a frown.

"Yes, the weekend before this past one," agreed Sasha. "Why? It doesn't lose effectiveness over time."

Hermione shook her head and then looked at Ron and Harry. "It doesn't account for the earlier memory loss," she said under her breath. Her mouth tightened and Ron understood the concern. _What had Kane done?_

Hermione looked at Sasha again. "And this was the first time you brewed any sort of memory potion?"

Sasha nodded in affirmation. "I'm so sorry," she said again. "Whatever you lost, if I can do anything to help you get it back, please, let me know." Her sincerity was palpable. Around her, the other Bellows nodded too.

"You should get Ginny involved in figuring this out," said Katerina with a wry grin. "She's done a damn good job of stopping us; I bet she can figure this out too."

"Good idea," said Ron. "We're uhh, actually headed to the Ministry now to see her. I bet she figures out what's going on immediately." He lowered the wards around the sisters and Harry followed suit.

As they turned to leave, Sasha put her hand on Harry's arm. "If Kane did do something to your memory, you can fight it," she said. "He's got talents at Leglimency and similar, but he's pants at brewing potions," she said. "That's why he found me."

Harry gave her a small smile. "I appreciate that," he said. He turned to Ron. "Can we go? I need to talk to Ginny."

HPHPHPHP

During the rest of the walk to the Ministry Harry's thoughts were swirling with everything he'd learned in the past day. All that long night in his room he'd been too angry to focus on what Ginny had told him and now his head was pounding with too much information to make individual sense of any of it. And of course, as full as his brain currently felt, the most important parts were still, glaringly, missing. He held onto one of the last things Sasha had said, that Kane was poor enough at potions that maybe the one he'd given Harry wouldn't be permanent. His hands tightened into fists at his waist. He _had _to get those memories back, and not just because he'd apparently had sex with Ginny Weasley and couldn't even remember it. Actually, that wasn't even part of the reason. It was like he'd told Sasha, that even without being able to remember it, he knew that what he'd lost was important, never mind the physical part. But damn if Harry had any idea how he was going to get any of it back. Besides, they had to figure out what Kane had done first. Harry hadn't missed the implication of Hermione's words; apparently he was the unwilling subject of not one, but two different kinds of memory modification, both of which needed to be addressed. Ginny would have to wait, probably, and he wondered if that would make her upset, if they tried to figure out the earlier memory charm first. Harry grimaced to himself. That was something he probably knew once, how Ginny would react to such a disappointment. He rubbed at his temples, as if that would somehow give him clarity.

"I don't think we should send her a message first because she's not likely to be alone; I think we all need to just go up together." Ron's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts. They were at the Ministry. Harry nodded.

"I want to be there when you talk to her," he said. "I don't care if Kane is there too." He gripped his wand. "Actually, I hope he is."

Hermione put her hand on his arm. "We need to be careful," she said. "Something about all this made you extremely angry and we don't know what it is. We can't risk you losing your focus."

"Should we talk to Kingsley first?" Ron asked. He looked at Harry. "We all discussed that last night, whether to tell him what's happened. But Ginny wanted to wait, wanted to see if you changed you mind about anything."

Harry nodded. "I have changed my mind," he said. "I want to apologize to her for getting angry. And I want to find Shepard Kane and demand he fix all this." He shook his head. "And Robards. He has to know what's going on."

"I don't know that he does," said Hermione. "Camilla told Ginny that after the War, all the most senior Aurors were acting more independently than usual, they were so busy. Kane may have acted alone."

That information only spurned Harry on. He strode into Auror headquarters with Ron and Hermione on his heels, determined to find Ginny and Shepard Kane as quickly as possible.

Class hadn't started yet and some of the trainees were still grouped around the doorway to there lecture room. Angelina and Lee looked up in surprise.

"Harry? Ron? We heard you were sick. Is Ginny feeling any better?" Next to her Parvati stepped back as if the others were contagious.

Harry shook his head impatiently. "Ginny's here, isn't she? She wasn't at her flat this morning." He looked around. "Maybe she's talking to someone?" He looked down the hallway towards the senior Auror offices.

"Maybe," said Angelina. "Who would she be talking to though?"

"Probably Camilla," said Ron. "She was, uhh, helping her with some Arrows' tickets for her nephew, I think."

But Harry was already walking down the hallway, not even caring that most of the trainees had decided follow, reasoning that Harry Potter's appearance in Auror headquarters was not something to be missed.

Harry didn't make it to Camilla's office. The woman herself was standing nearly face to face with Shepard Kane right in the middle of the hallway, her wand clenched in her fist. Gawain Robards stood between them both, looking more than a little concerned.

"This is going too far, Shepard," Camilla said angrily. "You have no idea what's happening down there - it's completely untested. She could suffer permanent damage!"

Harry felt a pit in his stomach. "Who could suffer permanent damage?" he asked tersely.

Kane looked at Harry, his eyes lighting up in recognition. "Mr. Potter, Harry! I see you decided to come help after all!"

Only the fact that he needed answers prevented Harry from Stupefying Kane right there, or, more satisfying, from slamming him against the wall, Muggle style. But he pulled out his wand.

"WHO COULD SUFFER PERMANENT DAMAGE?" he asked again, voice shaking.

Kane shook his head. "Don't listen to my colleague," he said in a placating voice. "Miss Weasley is perfectly safe." He actually reached out and patted Harry on the arm. "And now that you're here, things will go even better, I'm sure."

"Where the hell is my sister?" Ron had his wand out too and the look on his face was nearly murderous.

Camilla answered. "She's apparently in there," she said, pointing to what looked like the door to a broom closet. "Shep built some sort of . . . ritual to create a way to find more Dark Magic. Ginny entered it last night and hasn't emerged. We can't get any messages to her either."

The pit in Harry's stomach turned to proper nausea. "That's what she wanted me to help her with," he choked out. He looked at Ron. "She asked me to come help finish something and when I wouldn't, she came alone." He was sure the look of horror on Ron's face was reflected on his.

Kane nodded. "That's right," he said. "Miss Weasley was rather . . . disappointed at Mr. Potter's response to her request. She decided that fighting Dark Magic couldn't wait, she was thinking like an Auror, she was." He gave a bland smile that Harry wanted punch.

"Like hell she was thinking about Dark Magic," said Ron. "This is about Harry and you know it."

Kane shrugged. "I'm sure that had something to do with it too," he allowed. He turned to Harry. "So? Are you ready to go help her?"

Harry didn't hesitate. "What do I do?" he asked, just as Ron said, "we'll both go."

Kane shook his head. "I'm afraid the spell is set to only accept Harry and Ginny, given that they are the only ones who've been possessed by Voldemort." He spread his arms wide. "Even I can't go in."

"Which was one of the more blatantly reckless things I've ever seen you do," said Camilla angrily. "She's not even a fully trained Auror and this . . . ritual you've created hasn't been reviewed or approved by anyone."

Robards put up his hands. "We'll address all the . . . deficiencies of Shep's behavior later," he said. "Right now our concern is for Miss Weasley - Ginny."

"Didn't you hear? I have to go down there," said Harry. Past and present were crashing over him in waves and he was suddenly twelve years old again, hearing from Dumbledore that a monster had taken Ginny into the Chamber. "I'm the only one who can." He pulled off his traveling cloak and walked to the door. "How do I get in?" He looked at Gawain Robards. "I'm not waiting around to get a bunch of questions answered," he said. It was the farthest thing from proper Auror procedure, but Harry didn't care.

Robards nodded. "I wouldn't expect you would," he said. He nodded towards Kane. "I'll have him bound and waiting here; I already contacted Kingsley. We'll be questioning him further to learn whatever else we can."

Ron put his hand on Harry's back but it was obvious that he was as eager to get Harry inside as Harry himself was. "I know you'll take care of her, mate," he said quietly. He stepped back and took Hermione's hand.

Harry nodded tersely. He wasn't an inexperienced child anymore. He had no memory of what he might have once known was behind the door, and no memory of the fact that the witch he was going to save was someone he loved, but none of that mattered. Pushing back the now bound Shepard Kane, Harry walked through the door.

A/N: Whew! I started this chapter this morning on a mission and I'm so glad I was able to get it done. I think it did almost everything I wanted it to, despite being a little more dialogue-heavy than I might have wanted. I'm equally excited and scared to write the next chapter - I have a vision in my mind and I'm worried about being able to pull it off. But tomorrow I have to get back to my work life so I apologize that there won't be another 7,000 word chapter tomorrow night. But soon, I hope. Stay safe and healthy everyone!


	37. the chamber and The Chamber

Special thanks to Deadwoodpecker for pointing out what would have been a rather glaring continuity error, and to the Ginny Lovers discord for general awesomeness, and to my readers for some really lovely reviews lately. Stay safe everyone!

As soon as the door closed behind him and he was plunged into blackness, Harry felt a ping of regret at his haste. He had no idea where he was going or what he was going to find when he got there and so stopped short to consider that maybe he should have asked a few more questions before giving into his "saving people thing" and rushing after Ginny.

"Lumos," he whispered into the void.

He hadn't expected to see the interior of a broom closet but was still unprepared for the sight that awaited him, illuminated eerily by the end of his wand. The low-ceilinged, rocky corridor was both familiar and not, but it was enough to make him fairly certain about what this place was. _Kane's a fucking maniac. _

The floor was easier to navigate this time, but Harry tread cautiously anyway, his desire to get to Ginny at war with the need to be on his guard. Voldemort might have been dead but Harry didn't trust that there was anything safe about what he was going to find. But the corridor was silent and dry and once he saw a glow of light ahead he couldn't hold back. Heart beating out of his chest, Harry rounded a corner and burst into the Chamber.

Past and present crashed over him again. Some of the details were different but Harry barely noticed, his eyes pulled immediately to the small, red-headed figure in the middle of the room.

Ginny was sitting heavily against a broken stone pillar, legs splayed out in front of her. Her eyes and mouth were tight with pain although Harry couldn't see any obvious injury. He tripped over a rock in his hurry to get to her and she opened her eyes at the noise.

"Harry," she said hoarsely. She licked dry lips. "I didn't know if you'd come."

That stopped Harry short. "Of course I came," he said. "I was on my way to find you anyway, to apologize for being a prat. And when Kane told us . . . " He shook his head. "Of course I came, it doesn't matter that I don't . . ." He stopped again.

"That you don't care about me right now, not really," Ginny said. She'd sat up a bit when Harry'd arrived and now she leaned her head back against the pillar again and closed her eyes. "It really is like the Chamber," she mumbled. Her face tensed again.

Harry dropped down beside her "What's wrong, are you hurt?"

Ginny didn't answer. After a moment, the pain in her face receded and she opened her eyes. "It comes and goes," she said. "Gets worse when I ignore the visions."

Harry looked around but there was nothing new to see. "What visions? What is this place exactly? Is the Basilisk coming?" He swung his wand over the space, half expecting the giant serpent to come slithering out of a dark corner.

"No . . . no Basilisk," Ginny panted. "It's not important. But . . . Tom." She put her head into her hands and started rocking back and forth. Slowly, her breathing eased. Harry sat dumbly, not wanting to interrupt whatever had taken away some of Ginny's pain with more questions. Instead he looked around the space they were in.

It appeared to be a fairly decent representation of the Chamber of Secrets, albeit created by someone who'd only read accounts of it and never been inside. It was less damp but just as looming and eerie and Ginny's promise that the Basilisk would not be appearing at any moment only minimally calmed Harry's senses. His body felt heavy and he resisted the urge to sit fully down next to Ginny.

"I have to get you out of here," he said urgently. "We'll figure the rest out later."

"I don't think you can," said Ginny softly. She gestured back the way Harry had come. The entrance had disappeared; it wasn't merely sealed, but gone as though it had never been. Harry swore. "What the hell is this place?"

"What did Kane tell you before you came down here?"

Harry grimaced. "He didn't really tell me anything," he admitted. "I uhh, I may not have bothered to wait. Getting down to you was the most important thing at the moment."

Ginny gave him a small smile. "Your 'saving people thing,' " she said.

Harry was surprised. "That's what Hermione calls it," he said with a chuckle. "How did you know?"

Ginny smile dropped off her face. "I know a lot of things about you now, Harry," she said.

"Oh," said Harry, feeling like an idiot. "Right." Ginny's face went tight again with pain and Harry waited for it to ease before he spoke. "Do _you_ know anything about what's going on here? I can't imagine that you ran through that door without asking at least a few questions. Not with your superior Auror abilities." He meant it as a compliment, but the words sounded patronizing even to Harry's ears. He grimaced again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . ."

"It's okay, Harry, I get it," Ginny said. She gave him a look that made Harry wish he could understand exactly what Ginny knew about him. It was disconcerting, to have Ginny talk to him with real feeling when all he could remember was teasing and exasperation and indifference. Next to him, Ginny shifted against the pillar and gave a small groan of discomfort and Harry realized it didn't matter right now. He sat himself cross-legged on the ground across from Ginny. "Can you tell me what you know?" he asked gently.

Ginny nodded. "We're inside a . . . a spell of some kind," she said. Kane's been hinting all year that there was something about my experience in the Chamber that would help fight Dark Magic. And yours too. Something about the fact that we both were possessed by Voldemort. He said it left a magical signature or something that he wanted to use in the spell." She gave Harry a piercing look. "You started the spell, but didn't finish it," she said. "And that's what made you lose your memory."

Harry stifled a groan. Ginny didn't even know the truth about how he'd lost his memory. Quickly, he told her about the coffee and the Bellows sisters.

"So they weren't trying to get into the building for any truly evil purposes," she said.

"No, just to help them raise their social standing and sell more gossip," he said."Sasha was actually shocked to hear what Kane had used her for."

Ginny nodded. 'i'm glad," she said, and then winced.

"Is it getting worse?" Harry was concerned. He was starting to have a suspicion about what was going on, and if his hunch was true, there wasn't going to be much he could do to help Ginny right now. In fact, the heaviness in his own limbs was getting stronger, and there was a strange pounding in his head, as if someone was trying to open something up from the inside. He rubbed at his eyes.

Ginny gave a tiny shrug and Harry could tell by the way she was holding her body that movement was difficult. "It's been worse since you've been here, but I think that's because I haven't been able to . . . do what it wants. The spell, I mean." She cocked her head and looked at Harry. "Do you feel it?"

Harry nodded. "I'm starting to, I think," he said, and was surprised when Ginny scooted over and gestured at the space next to her. "It's easier if you have something to lean against," she said. Although he knew it had been put there on purpose, the pillar appeared to have fallen from the ceiling and cracked into several pieces. Harry moved towards Ginny and ended up sitting against another piece of stone kitty-corner to hers. He sighed, although it was not quite in relief. "Thanks," he said. His head thumped again. "Maybe you'd better tell me how you make the pain go away?"

Ginny's eyes went a little unfocused before she answered. "Tom's here, can you see him?" She pointed across the open space to a dark spot that would have released the Basilisk in the real Chamber.

Until Ginny said anything, Harry would have said the model of the Chamber they were in felt enough like the real thing that he knew where he was, but the details were a little off; he'd even describe them as fuzzy around the edges. But when Harry looked where Ginny pointed, his vision tunneled. The Chamber he was sitting in fell away and sixteen year old Tom Riddle was stepping out of the shadows and walking towards them. As Riddle neared, the space around him shimmered, contracted, and then reformed, this time looking exactly like the real Chamber of Secrets from all those years before. The air turned dank, water dripped from the walls, and Harry thought he heard the quiet approach of a giant serpent. Ginny disappeared from the side of Harry's vision and when Tom spoke, the words didn't come from the solidifying figure in front of him but seemed to emerge directly into Harry's brain.

"I was evil from the start, you know. Why do you think that is?" Riddle leered at Harry and flickered, and for a moment, Harry saw the image of a child. It was the young Riddle Harry had seen in Dumbledore's memory, from the orphanage. The boy-Riddle sneered too and morphed back into the teenager who looked down at Ginny. "She certainly grew up, didn't she? She was a stupid, whiny little girl and and now I suspect she's no better now. It was easy for me to possess her; I've always been so good at getting people to do what I want." The voice and vision in Harry's head swirled again, so quickly it made him feel sick. When he could focus again he was looking at the handsome face he knew to belong to Tom Riddle Sr., but almost immediately, another image was superimposed over him. Marvolo Gaunt was yelling angrily, but without sound, as if someone had taken his voice. Instead, Harry heard the teenaged Riddle yet again. "They both must matter, as loathe as I am to admit it. Power, intelligence, charm, cunning. It's all here, you know. And it's been here from the start. Too bad you didn't get here earlier. That bitch has done so much already. She's close to my age now, it's helped her, I think. More than when she was a child." Riddle shimmered again and Harry saw Ginny when she was eleven, lying pale and barely alive on the stone floor. Riddle chuckled. "She hasn't grown that much though, has she? Now she thinks she's in love with you; still doesn't realize what a waste it is to put any effort into you." Tom's voice grew fainter. "You gave a lot; it's a good start. I'll be back you know. For you, and for her."

Riddle faded away and the room shimmered again. Harry found himself on his hands and knees, panting and trying to get the sound of Riddle's voice completely out of his head.

"It'll ease up in a moment, although then the pain will start." Ginny's voice was quiet and strained. Harry forced himself back into a sitting position. The Chamber was back to the fuzzy space Harry'd first found; it looked even less familiar now that he'd seen the real thing. Ginny conjured a cup of water and handed it over. Harry drank greedily, feeling his head settle a bit. He finally looked at Ginny.

"You saw all that too? With Riddle?" His voice sounded weak in his ears.

Ginny nodded. She seemed to have grown even more pale. "He's been appearing like that since I got here. Talking to me about how much time I wasted the I was younger, complaining to him about you, and about how I was jealous of you and Ron." She shook her head. "And how he thinks I was actually secretly in love with you, way back then, and that's why I complained to the diary so much. He called it 'stupid crush' on you, telling me what a waste it is to love, to love you." Her voice choked on the last word. Harry wasn't sure if Riddle was taunting Ginny about her past or present. He thought maybe he should comfort her but he wasn't sure how, wasn't sure how she'd take him touching her or something. Before he could figure out what to do, Ginny kept talking. "He's so proud of his power, you know. Every time I've seen him, he's talked about that same thing, that rejecting love, rejecting friendship, rejecting _connection_ made him who he is."

Harry frowned. "Did you see him as a young boy too? And did you see his father?"

Now Ginny looked confused. "No, I only see Tom," she said. "Like he was in the diary." She shifted a bit on the ground and rubbed her head. "He talks to me differently now that I'm older though. He's less understanding, more . . . disdainful of my choices."

"Your choice to love me," Harry said cautiously. It felt odd in his mouth to say it.

"Yes, but I think it goes beyond that," said Ginny. She rubbed at her head again. "He thinks all love is an impediment to what's really important. He actually used that word, impediment. And my family, big as it is, holds me back." She looked at Harry. "He says you had a lot more potential and he doesn't understand why you never used it."

It wasn't the first time someone had drawn a parallel between Harry and Voldemort. He and Dumbledore had talked about it at length. Now he shrugged. "I never understood that, how it could be okay to live without love." His head felt heavy and he leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. "Especially after I met your family," he added. Ginny made a soft sound and Harry opened his eyes. "Are you okay?" He was feeling more and more disjointed although the pain, when it came, was still manageable. He knew he had to figure out what this place was, and then figure out how to get out of it, but he found he could only focus for a minute or two. And yet, Ginny had been here for hours and hours before him; the fact that she was still upright and talking was rather amazing.

She nodded. "I want to see them again," she said quietly.

"Me too," said Harry. "And we will, I promise."

"I know," said Ginny in a tired voice. Before I came down here Kane said something about talking to me when I saw him later."

Harry looked sharply at Ginny. "He did? Did he say when?"

Ginny shrugged. "When the spell is complete, I guess," she said.

"Not a spell," Harry said, certainty bursting into his head with a speed that made him dizzy. "We aren't inside a spell, it's a ritual." The room shifted again.

"Good job, Potter. I didn't think you'd remember so soon. You've never been as powerful as you could be. Otherwise you'd have been able to fight Kane's more effectively." Tom Riddle was back. Now he was sitting on a stone chair, speaking to Harry almost conversationally. This time, Harry tried to respond but he couldn't make his mouth work. It didn't matter though, for Riddle smirked.

"Oh, I know, you think you did fight him, and I guess you put in some effort, but really, I never would have fallen to a memory charm so easily. You had other things on your mind, even back then, didn't you? Don't you understand yet? What really matters? The source of all my power? That's why you're here, you know. You and the girl. Somehow you both managed not to die before. Too bad. Will you die now, once we're through here?"

Harry's mouth worked. "No," he gasped. "You're not real."

Riddle shrugged. "I don't think that matters though. I'm still able to draw out what he needs, no matter how inartfully he set everything up here." He peered at Harry. "You do know what he wants don't you?"

Harry was about to say no he had no idea who - or what - Riddle was talking about, but then it felt like his brain shifted in his head and his thoughts shifted with it, as if a curtain had been pulled open.

"I do know," he gasped. "But . . . but it won't work. I told him before, it won't work." He repeated it again. He pointed at Riddle. "You . . . you were unique. There's nothing to be learned, we can't help you." Harry put his hands to his head, trying to force Riddle out again, ignoring the pain that came in his place. But Riddle sat forward, shaking his head as if admonishing a small child.

"I _was_unique, I'll give you that," he said. "And I doubt there will ever be another as powerful as I was." Riddle seemed comfortable speaking about himself in the past tense, for which Harry was grateful. "But," he continued, "it is not necessary to mimic my circumstances exactly. Even those with only a few attributes are suspect, and must be contained." Riddle cocked his head and shimmered for a moment before reforming. When he spoke again, his voice sounded rather as though he was speaking under water. "What is being gleaned here, now, will be used to great advantage for years to come. You and Miss Wesley hold the key, you know . . ."

"Oh shit," Harry said. The vision was fading but Tom Riddle's words still echoed in his ear, now sounding more and more like Shepard Kane. His head pounded but he ignored it. "I know what he wants to do. Kane." He looked over at Ginny, not sure if she'd seen Tom Riddle again this time. "I remember."

"What is it?" asked Ginny tightly. She looked down for a second and Harry saw her take a deep breath. "What do you remember?"

Harry couldn't miss the undercurrent of hope in her voice and that made him hate what he had to say next even more. "I remember what Kane's plans are," he said. "I remember why I quit the Aurors because of it and I remember why we're here." He put a gentle hand on Ginny's arm. "But that's all."

Ginny took another deep breath and nodded. When she looked up, Harry could see the unshed tears in her eyes. "But that's . . . that's good," she said, her voice only wavering a little. "What does he want to do? It must be something big if it caused him to take your memory of it."

Harry grimaced, the memories of the fight he and Kane had had right before Harry had left were bad enough on their own but now they were coupled with the feeling that his body was being stabbed with shards of glass, too. Ginny put her hand on his leg. "You'll get more used to the pain," she said quietly. "It only seems to happen when you fight the visions and come back here." She gestured around the fake Chamber. "I couldn't stand it when I first got here at all, so I spent most of my time listening to Tom and remembering the things he told me the first time." Ginny's voice was very soft, as if she didn't have the energy to speak any louder. "But I still don't exactly understand what he wants."

"It's not what he wants, it's Kane," Harry finally said. "Riddle's dead. What we're seeing and hearing is an echo of our previous interactions with him, pulled out of us by the ritual."

Ginny frowned. "Ritual? That's different than just a spell, right?"

Harry nodded. "Rituals are a lot more involved. They require multiple spells and take a number of steps to complete; they usually need to draw on outside energy to fulfill their purpose." He stopped, thinking. "When I saw Voldemort resurrected, that was a ritual."

"This ritual, it's using our energy, isn't it? Taking it from us. How did you stop in the middle, last time?" Ginny looked at him. "I don't think I have enough strength right now to battle a flobberworm."

Harry shook his head. "That's just it, I didn't stop in the middle. That's a lie Kane told to you to get you here. There's no real way to start a ritual and then just stop. It has to continue to completion."

Ginny groaned. "Really? I can't believe I fell for it. Kane . . . he made me believe that the best way to get your memory back was for both of us to work together to finish whatever it was you'd started. And when I couldn't convince you, then he said that me alone was the next best thing." She looked at Harry. "I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have pressured you, especially since I didn't even understand what I was asking you to do and I knew you weren't remembering anything. About Kane or . . . me." Ginny's face grew tortured but Harry knew it wasn't all physical pain. He leaned in to comfort her and another memory struck him. He was barely aware of saying his next words.

"That's why I got so mad at you." He sat back again and closed his eyes, letting the thoughts form.

_Kane had been pressuring him, telling him they really needed Ginny here too, that her participation was vital for . . . whatever it was that Kane had planned. And once again, Harry had refused, unless he understood exactly why Ginny was needed. Just the fact that she'd "also been subject to the greatest evil of all time" wasn't enough. Ginny barely tolerated Harry, he'd told Kane. If they were going to go searching for Dark Magic across the country, Kane had better have a damn good reason for both of them._

Harry opened his eyes. Ginny was watching him cautiously, as if she knew he'd just figured out something important but she might not like hearing what it was. "Kane wanted me to do the same thing," he said. "Get you to come and help us. But he wouldn't tell me exactly why he needed you and so I kept refusing him. It became a source of tension between me and Kane. And when you asked me the other night . . . "

"It brought the emotion of that memory to the surface but you couldn't remember why," finished Ginny. She nodded. "That makes sense, now. It annoyed me too, all the times Kane's bothered me about recruiting you."

This was news to Harry. "He did? Why did he say he needed me? Did I know it?" He grimaced. "I'm sorry, I don't remember."

This time, Ginny didn't seem to get as upset at mention of Harry's memory loss. She shrugged. "He told me about as much as he apparently told you," she said. "There was something about our collective experience that was important. I didn't know until recently that he's trying to build a new dark detector." She gave Harry a sad smile. "I'm sorry you don't remember. We'd actually become friends first, real friends, well before . . . anything else developed." She shrugged. "It was nice."

Harry detected a subtle shift in Ginny's demeanor. He could only imagine how difficult it must have been for her these past days, having to pretend when she was around him. Now she seemed to have decided that it was time for honesty, even if he couldn't give her what she wanted back. He only hoped her new attitude wasn't born of the resignation that they were not going to make it out of here alive. He had no idea how far the ritual had come or how much it had yet to go; the pain from fighting the visions of Tom Riddle was growing incrementally but he didn't know significant that was. And then there was the fact that Ginny had been here for so long on her own, which likely impacted the effectiveness of the ritual and how each of them reacted to it.

She was a lot tougher than he'd ever given her credit for. And she'd come here alone to help him, even after he'd been a complete arse to her. As he studied her, Ginny's face grew tight with pain again. When it finally eased, she looked curiously at him. "What is it?" she asked slowly.

"I've annoyed you a lot over the years," he said.

Ginny gave him a small smile. "We annoyed each other," she said gently.

Harry nodded. "That's fair." He knew there was a lot more for them to discuss, about why they'd never gotten along, what had happened the first time they'd been in the Chamber, and probably more. But he also knew this was the wrong place and time do it. Instead, Harry took a deep breath. If she was being honest, he could be too.

"This is really weird for me too," he said. "Even though I can't remember everything you do."

Ginny nodded. "I'm sure it is." She didn't say anything else. Harry plunged ahead anyway.

"Umm, one of the reasons it's so weird is that, umm, I kind of, fancy you." He felt his face heat. "Actually, I have since my Fifth year, even though that was when I umm . . ." he stuttered to a stop, thinking that Ginny didn't need to be reminded of that particular moment.

She finished his thought. "That was when you told me that it was my fault I'd ended up in the Chamber," she said matter-of-factly. "And then we barely spoke for a while."

"Uhh, right," said Harry. "Umm, that's the year it started anyway. Me fancying you." He looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry."

To Harry's surprise, Ginny laughed. She leaned forward and carefully untangled the bottom of his shirt from where he'd wrapped it in his fingers. "Harry, I know about your crush," she said. "You told me ages ago. Before we . . . you know. It was actually the first thing that got us started . . . becoming us." She was still holding his hand and when she looked down and realized it, she made a small sound before letting go and leaning back against the stone. "That happened the last time too," she said. "I held your hand without realizing it. That's when you told me you fancied me."

Harry wished more than ever he remembered. He thought maybe Ginny felt better being able to tell him and he wanted her to keep going. He nodded in understanding. "And then we . . .?"

"And then it kind of grew from there," she said. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Not all at once; you gave me space to figure things out. And I did, on my own." She swallowed again. "I figured out I loved you." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "It happened very naturally, loving you," she said. "And you loved me." There was no accusation in her voice, it was almost as if Ginny was reciting a story for him to learn because it might be important one day. A faint blush climbed her cheeks. "And it was good other ways too," she said. "Physically . . ."

"I know we had sex," Harry said quickly. "Ron told me." He didn't want Ginny to have to say it. He shook his head to himself. "I can't believe I don't remember losing my virginity," he said mournfully. He looked at Ginny. "And you . . .?"

She nodded. "It was my first time too."

"Good," said Harry, earning a small smile from Ginny. "I didn't know if maybe you and Dam had . . .?"

"That bothered you last time too," said Ginny. "But no, Dam and I pretty much just snogged."

"So umm, I guess that means you've seen me naked, huh?" Harry shifted on the ground. Somehow, that fact seemed more intimate even that he and Ginny had slept together.

Ginny's mouth quirked. "I have," she agreed. "And . . . you've seen me naked too." She raised her eyebrows at him.

Harry hadn't considered that. "Oh," he said. "Uhh, wow." He looked down shaking his head. "That's just not fair at all."

"It's not," agreed Ginny dryly. "But I suppose if you can't remember anything else, I'm glad you can't remember just that."

Harry gave a small snort and winced as the pain shot through him again. He hadn't realized how much more he was aching now. Without thinking about it, or a word of warning to Ginny, he plunged back into conversation with Tom Riddle.

Riddle was pacing this time, and speaking quickly, as if he had a lot to say. "I went beyond the ordinary bounds of evil, didn't Dumbledore say that?" Without waiting for an answer; indeed, Harry wasn't sure he could have answered, Riddle continued. "But don't let that deter you, I have plenty of ordinary evil inside too, as you know. You and the girl." Riddle glanced behind him and Harry got the odd feeling that there was another incarnation of him talking to Ginny at the same time. He felt a thrum of fear. _Something was changing._

He forced his attention back to Tom. "I had such control over my . . . well, they might have called themselves my friends but we know better, don't we? I always knew how to get what I want from those who were weaker and needier." Riddle gave a harsh laugh. "That was everyone of course." He stopped in front of Harry. "But now it will all be put to good use, won't it? It's almost all out of you now. Both of you. I don't really care anymore; it's not like anyone could have challenged my legacy anyway. But now it shouldn't be a possibility because they'll all be gone long before they get to be a problem." He laughed again and Harry's blood boiled as the last bit of memory dropped back into him. "I've always hated children anyway, except when I could use them for my own means." He sneered at Harry and began walking backwards away from him. "But I guess you're helping take care of some of that now, aren't you? You and the girl . . ."

Harry only just managed to crawl away from where he'd been sitting before he vomited. The fake Chamber shimmered in his vision and pain came in waves. He didn't want to believe what he knew again, the reason Kane had wanted - no, needed - Harry and Ginny for this ritual. It had horrified him so much the first time he'd learned about it that Kane had taken all of his memories to keep the secret safe. And now he'd succeeded in seeing it all through. The ritual was almost complete; Harry could feel the energy from Riddle being sucked out of him even as the pain became almost blinding. Only a small sound to his right brought him back to the moment.

Ginny looked a million times worse. Her skin was almost translucent, it was so pale, the hair framing her face was like blood. As Harry crawled towards her she cracked her eyes open and looked at him dully at him. "It's . . . it's almost over," she whispered. "I gave everything I had."

"Stay with me, Ginny, just a little bit longer," Harry muttered desperately. He grabbed his wand and conjured a damp cloth to wipe at her face. "As soon as it ends, we'll get out of here and get you help." Harry could barely hold his own self upright, but seeing Ginny nearly unconscious kept him going. Almost reflexively, he glanced at the high stone ceiling of the chamber, but he knew that Fawkes wouldn't be there to save them this time. He wiped Ginny's face again and kept talking. "Did he tell you too? Tom Riddle, I mean. Did he tell you why we're here?" Ginny shivered and made a small sound. Harry wasn't sure if it was pain or that she was trying to talk, so he kept going. "I know he was taking different things from each of us. That the ritual was taking different things. It got more of your energy because you came down here first." He looked around. The walls of the chamber were even fuzzier now and there was a rushing in his ears. He scooped Ginny into his lap, not sure he'd be able to stand when the time came. He had his wand, but the idea of trying any sort of lifting spell left him too dizzy to think.

Ginny nestled her head into the crook of Harry's neck as if it was a totally natural thing and he tightened his arms around her. "Tell me," she said, so quietly he wasn't sure he'd heard her right."

"What?" Harry was looking around, trying to figure out where the exit was going to appear. He couldn't tell which way he'd originally entered anymore.

"Tell me why we're here, what we did," she said. She turned her head and locked eyes with him. "I need to know."

Harry didn't want to say the words, but Ginny's breathing was becoming labored. The ritual had to end soon or it would be too late; maybe telling her would be the thing to speed things along. He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on hers.

It's true, the ritual is to make a new dark detector," he said. "But not just any old one. Kane's rather obsessed with stamping out Dark Magic before it has a chance to grow. In children." Harry swallowed, feeling a wave of nausea again. He had to look away to say the last bit. "He wants to build something that draws on all of Tom Riddle's evil, back to when he was a small child, and use it to find that sort of intent in others." He swallowed again. "Other children." Ginny shook suddenly in his arms. Her eyes closed and Harry made a sound of distress. But then she spoke again and Harry knew she already knew the answer. "And then?"

Harry nodded even though Ginny wasn't watching him anymore. "And then Kane plans to eliminate those children before they have the chance to grow evil. When they are babies. He plans to kill them all."

Harry couldn't hear if Ginny said anything else after that. There was a huge crash of stone and earth all around them and Harry flinched, trying to cover Ginny's body with his, although of course there was no way he could protect her from falling boulders. But the expected pain never came. Instead, a cacophony of voices seemed to be everywhere at once, screaming, yelling speaking in tones he thought he should recognize. Strong hands lifted Ginny out of his arms and when he tried to grab her back, other hands caught him too. "Tell St. Mungo's we're on our way," someone said, and then Harry heard no more.

A/N: I think this is the last cliffhanger for a while. I think, but I make no promises.


	38. Indifference and Anger

A/N: Posted before I forgot to write this: This chapter was nearly 3,000 words long and totally kicking my ass before Deadwoodpecker pointed out that I was taking it, and Harry, and his character, in a way that I really didn't want to. As painful as it was, I deleted a lot of what I'd written and started over. It turned out much better the second time and I'm so grateful that she didn't let me fall off the rails. It would have been ugly.

The frantic voices were back, swirling around Harry as he floated - lay? - in the blackness.

"_No, keep him here. The wards will . . ."_

"_What the hell did he think . . ."_

"_. . . didn't work, but keep that quiet for now."_

"_. . . and Camilla Stalk are still here. They haven't been able to . . ."_

"_. . . knew what's been taken from them. It would make figuring out a healing spell much . . ."_

"_She's barely moved. He seems a bit more restless, at least. I don't know what . . ."_

Harry opened his eyes and the blackness disappeared. He was lying on his back while several strangers in healer's robes rushed around him. He felt the cool breeze of a healing spell on his chest and then another, warmer, around his eyes. An unfamiliar face peered down at him.

"He's awake," she announced to the room and suddenly more healers crowded around. Beyond them, Harry heard someone he thought was Ron say _"Thank fucking Merlin,"_and another voice, more muffled, answered with words he couldn't quite hear, other than something that sounded like ". . . _four hours." _

He struggled to sit up. "How's . . . where's Riddle?" he asked thickly. His tongue felt like cotton and a strange weak dizziness washed over him. He let his head fall back on the bed.

"Just a minute, Mr. Potter." The healer who looked to be in charge signaled for a young man in training robes to bring Harry a cup of water. He drank gratefully as another voice spoke up.

"Riddle is gone, or whatever of him that was here is gone. We aren't sure yet exactly what that was."

Camilla Stalk looked exhausted - and frustrated and angry - although her ire didn't seem to be directed at Harry. She was holding her wand tightly in one hand and kept looking to the door of the room. Harry wasn't sure what she was watching for but her posture and expression suggested that she might be guarding him from something. Or someone, he supposed. He tried to sit up again and this time the healer gave a small sigh and waived her wand to raise the head of Harry's bed, although it was clear she'd have preferred to have him still lying flat and not talking.

"I'll tell you what I know," he told Camilla. She gave him a tight smile.

"We intend to question you quite thoroughly as soon as you're able," she said. She glanced out the door again. "Ginny too . . . eventually."

"How is Ginny?" asked Harry. Ron was in the room with him, so he reasoned she couldn't be too badly off. "She kind of . . . collapsed right before the Chamber did." Harry looked at Camilla but it was the healer who answered.

"Still unconscious," she said briskly, adjusting Harry's pillow even though he'd been fairly comfortable already. "We don't know when she'll wake up, given how much longer she was inside the ritual than you were." She pursed her lips and Harry got the impression the healer blamed him for Ginny's state. "I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened to the two of you, since you seem to be feeling well enough to answer." She motioned to the rest of the healers and they slowly filed out of the room.

Harry was feeling anything but well, but he nodded tiredly, forcing himself not to give into the blackness that threatened at the edges of his vision. "Okay."

"I thought we agreed that the Aurors . . ." Camilla began.

". . . can be present for the questioning, yes," interrupted the healer. "But right now my first priority is the health of my patients. I need to ascertain what happened to them, magically and medically, so that they can be treated appropriately. Everything else can wait."

"Everything else Cannot wait," retorted Camilla. "Residual effects of the ritual could cause injury to many more people than just Harry and Ginny. We let the healers question Kane first and from what I heard in the interview, he wasn't very helpful. Considering he nearly killed two people, he seems to have a remarkably lax understanding of what he did. The Aurors need that information." Her face boded no argument.

Harry grasped onto one bit of information. "Kane's here?" he asked. His mind moved sluggishly. "Shouldn't be be in Azkeban or something?" Camilla made a convulsive movement and opened her mouth, but then closed it again when the healer answered.

She gave Harry a curious look. "Azkeban? Now why would you say that? I understand the . . . ritual as it were, didn't go according to plan, but the Aurors here don't put people in Azkeban for mistakes, no matter how improperly executed." She didn't quite pat his head but the intent was clear in her voice.

"Right," said Harry thickly. "Sorry."

"You must still be quite confused," Ron said loudly. He put a reassuring hand on Harry's arm but Harry was pretty sure the healer couldn't see that Ron also gave him a squeeze of warning. He responded with a tiny nod of understanding. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione and Camilla before revealing too much to the healers.

"What time is it?" he asked. The curtains at the sole window in the room were tightly closed. "Actually, what _day_ is it?" Ginny had gone into the Chamber Sunday night and Harry had joined her there Monday morning but he had no idea how long they'd been down there or how long he'd been unconscious once they were pulled out.

"It's 1 am Tuesday morning," answered the healer. "You and Miss Weasley were brought here around 9 pm." She waved her wand over Harry and he felt a cooling sensation again.

"So that's good," he said. "I woke up pretty quickly." That must mean Ginny couldn't be far behind; she'd only been in the Chamber what, maybe twelve hours longer than he had? "Ginny was there about twice as long as I was," he said, half to himself. "So she should be waking up in another 3-4 hours." That was good to know; Harry could focus on talking to Camilla and probably Robards too. He wished there was a way to confirm that Shepard Kane was at least secured and unable to escape right now. He looked around, trying to think about how to ask without giving anything away.

"We believe that Miss Weasley took the brunt of the damage," the healer said bluntly, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "According to Mr. Kane, the ritual was intended for two people to participate from the start, to create the proper balance of energy. He tried to dissuade Miss Weasley from entering the ritual by herself, warned her of the danger and all, and thought he had succeeded in convincing her." The healer shook her head. "But then she slipped inside when Mr. Kane turned around to return to his office and he was unable to stop her in time." The healer sounded as if she was repeating a story she'd been told, a story that put most of the blame for everything squarely on Ginny. Clearly Kane had been busy spinning quite a tale. Harry very carefully did not look at Ron and Hermione. They knew the truth - Kane had undoubtedly been eager to have Ginny enter the ritual herself.

"So even though she was in the Chamber about twice as long as Harry was, it might take Ginny more than twice as long to wake up?" Harry wasn't surprised that Ron ignored the healers subtle accusations, and he wished he had even a few minutes to talk to his friends in private before he had to start answering questions. He didn't know enough about what Kane had told everyone during those long twelve hours, but obviously it was convincing enough that the man was here at St. Mungo's and not locked up or being questioned under Veritaserum or something.

"We don't know exactly when Miss Weasley will wake up, no," agreed the healer. She gave Harry a soft look. "But whatever you can tell us will certainly help her get better as quickly as possible."

Harry made a quick decision. "I'd like to speak to Camilla - Ms. Stalk - and my friends first," he said carefully. He rubbed at his head as if thinking. "I . . . I'm not sure exactly what I saw, down there. I don't want to, umm, give the healers the wrong information that could . . . impede my recovery. And Ginny's too," he said after a second.

"It's true," said Camilla. She flashed Harry a knowing look. "Auror procedure is to address and contain any dangers from dark magic as quickly as possible. Now that there isn't any concern about Harry's immediate health, I must insist that I conduct a formal witness interview." She looked at Ron. "And you'll assist, as one of my trainees."

Ron nodded seriously. "Hermione should stay too," he said. "Since Harry spoke to her at length about several of his concerns before all this happened."

Harry hid a smirk; Ron obviously knew everything Hermione did and she didn't absolutely need stay.

The healer pursed her lips, obviously not liking the idea. Harry rubbed at his head again and she finally nodded. "I'll just check in on Miss Weasley then," she said.

As soon as the door closed, Harry tried to sit up further, but groaned and leaned back when the dizziness intensified. "Is Kane somewhere contained?" he asked through the pain.

Camilla put her hand on his shoulder. "You can answer questions with your eyes closed if you need to, Potter," she said. "And yes, Shepard's here at the hospital, prevented from leaving by several wards set up by Bill Weasley. He doesn't realize the depth of our suspicions about him though. Obviously you know more than just the fact of the memory charm and potion he used on you? Ron and Hermione filled me in on those facts while you were in the Chamber, but Kane doesn't know that we're aware of that information."

Harry sighed in relief that he wouldn't have to start from the beginning. He kept his words brief.

"The ritual was designed to draw on the experiences Ginny and I had with Voldemort when we were younger and he was Tom Riddle - to capture the essence of what made him evil from childhood. Kane planned to use that essence to make a new type of dark detector."

"That's what Kane said," agreed Camilla. She looked angry. "But apparently he didn't consider the physical toll that would be required to effect such a ritual to completion. The relational connections between the two of you and . . . _Tom Riddle_are not easy to separate. Honestly, for an Auror to even think to try that sort of thing is . . . reprehensible." She shook her head.

"And you know he didn't try to talk Ginny out of going into the ritual alone," said Harry. "He wanted her in there - wanted us both of course - but her by herself was the next best thing."

"Ron told us," Camilla said grimly. "The healers think that when Ginny began the ritual alone it took even more energy from her. Kane was remarkably blasé about that fact."

"It was rather careless of her to go there alone," remarked Harry. He looked over at Ron and Hermione. "I mean, she already knew Kane had been fucking with my memory and couldn't be trusted. Wouldn't it have been better to wait and talk to Camilla and Robards before doing something so rash?"

Harry didn't understand the silence. Finally, Hermione spoke. "Ginny's in love with you, Harry," she said gently. "I don't think she was thinking about much else when she went to Kane."

"Oh, right." Harry felt like an arse. He looked down at his hands. "It was good of her, of course. And down in the chamber, we talked a bit." He flushed, suddenly recalling their discussion of having seen each other naked and having had sex. In the horror of the revelations he'd had later, those little details had slipped from his mind. He gave a small smile. "And yeah, she must be pretty strong, to have fought Riddle alone as long as she did. I found it painful and exhausting myself."

Harry hoped Ron would forgive him for what he'd thought about Ginny, but that wasn't what was important now. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he needed to tell the others what he'd remembered first. He looked swiftly at Camilla. "I got some of my memories back, during the ritual. The dark detector Kane's trying to make, he wants to use it to uncover a "propensity for future evil" in young children. And then he plans to eliminate them."

The swearing from the others was immediate; even with his eyes closed, Harry recognized each response and the sudden frantic movement around his bed. He wanted to say more, but exhaustion was overtaking him like a blanket. He let himself give into the desire to sleep; the last sound he heard was Camilla Stalk saying the words to conjure her Patronus. Before he could figure out where it was going, Harry fell asleep.

HPHPHPHP

"Should we wake him up? Do you have more questions?" Ron directed his questions at Camilla, who was standing tersely at the door to Harry's hospital room.

"Let him sleep," she said. "We'll see what Gawain says." She looked seriously at Ron and Hermione. "Neither of you had any idea?"

Hermione shook her head. "None," she said. She grimaced. "But it all makes sense now, doesn't it? Why Kane was so interested in the fact that Harry had also been in the Chamber; it always seemed a bit odd that it was more important to him than the fact that Harry had been a Horcrux. He wanted their memories of Voldemort as a child."

"Shepard was always quite heavy handed in his ideas for uncovering Dark Magic at the family level," said Camilla. "The homeschooling legislation wasn't enough for him; he wanted to do more to make sure that young children weren't being raised that way." She looked sick. "But we never suspected he wanted to . . . to kill any child he thought might go evil later." She ran her hand through her hair. "What the fuck was he thinking?"

"Whatever he was thinking, it didn't work." Gawain Robards was there suddenly, looking angrier than Ron had ever seen him. Kingsley Shacklebolt with was him, the Minister looking equally grim. He looked in at Harry's sleeping form. "We can talk in here?"

Camilla nodded. "It's warded well," she said. She looked at Ron and Hermione. "Why don't you go check on Ginny?" she said. "I'll contact you if we have questions, or if Harry wakes up again."

Ron didn't know if the dismissal was to keep him and Hermione from hearing things they shouldn't know or simply Camilla's sensitivity to Ron's family, but it was clear they weren't going to be participating in the meeting. He glanced at Harry again, thinking about what else he'd revealed beyond Kane's plans.

Hermione was clearly on the same page. "It sounds like he only got his memory of Kane back during the ritual," she said as they walked down the corridor. "Not his memories of him and Ginny."

Ron nodded. He'd come to the same conclusion. The oddness of hearing Harry speak so dispassionately about Ginny again made Ron realize that he'd already gotten used to the idea of his best friend and sister as a couple. While part of him wanted to throttle Ginny for running off to the Ministry in the middle of the night to meet up with Kane by herself, he also kind of understood it. It's exactly what he suspected Harry would have done, had the roles been reversed. He sighed.

"We have to tell my family about Harry," he said to Hermione at the door to Ginny's room. "They don't know he's forgotten about Ginny." It was not a conversation he was looking forward to having, even with Ginny still unconscious. His family surprised him, though.

"We knew something must have been really wrong for Ginny to go running alone to the Ministry like that." Arthur was holding Molly's hand as they sat next to Ginny's bed. Fred, George, Angelina, Bill and Fleur were sitting on various chairs around the room. It was Angelina who nodded in agreement first.

"As an Auror, Ginny would have known that what she was doing was too risky." She shrugged. "But for someone she loved . . ."

"It must have been so 'ard for her, losing 'Arry like that so soon after they were together," said Fleur. "I am not surprised one bit that she wanted to do whatever she could to 'elp."

Fleur's pronouncement seemed to be the last word anyone needed said on the matter. After a moment, Molly stood up and stroked Ginny's hair. "You said that Harry still didn't remember anything after he woke up, but what if he actually saw her?" Her voice filled with hope. "Could that trigger something? Even before she wakes up?"

Ron felt it was his duty to answer. "I just spoke to him, mum. He and Ginny talked while they were . . . down there. If his memory of her didn't return then, I doubt just seeing her now will have any effect." He spoke gently but firmly, and after a minute, Molly nodded.

"I . . . I know she's going to wake up," she said shakily. "I'm not even worried about that anymore. But . . . they were so _happy. _I don't know what she's going to think when she wakes up and learns that nothing has changed." She shook her head to herself.

"She'll likely start figuring out a new way to help Harry remember," said Bill bracingly. "And won't stop until she finds one."

Ron was both impressed and a little distressed that neither Fred nor George jumped at the chance to make an inappropriate innuendo. He thought he saw a spark of a smirk cross Fred's face, but another look at Ginny, lying still as a corpse, wiped it away.

"Maybe Harry will just fall in love with 'er again," said Fleur thoughtfully. She looked around the room. "Since 'e did once, why not a second time?"

Most of the Weasleys made comments of agreement and hope at the possibility of Fleur's idea. Ron was a lot less certain, but kept his mouth shut. Hermione leaned in. "Harry'd have to get out of his own head first, to be able to let that happen, after everything," she said quietly. Ron gave a small nod.

"He's going to feel guilty at some point," he agreed. Harry hadn't shown that particular emotion during their brief talk with him earlier, but Ron had no doubt it would surface in the coming days, especially if took Ginny some time to wake up. "I just hope they can become friends again at least," he said.

Ron and Hermione didn't learn what Robards and Camilla and Kingsley had discussed that night. Harry's door was firmly shut and glowing faintly when they walked past and neither of them wanted to try to interrupt.

"What does Dam and the rest of the team know?" asked Hermione as they walked out of St. Mungo's. Despite the cold and late hour, they both felt like walking for a while. "I saw you talking to the Arrows' publicist while were all waiting."

Ron nodded. "I thought team management needed to know what was going on," he replied. The long hours of sitting in that corridor, waiting outside the broom closet door while both Harry and Ginny had been inside the ritual had been tense and uncertain, and Ron had been happy to think of at least one useful thing to do. He'd finally gone to use the Floo in Gawain Robards' office when the urge to punch Kane had become nearly overwhelming.

"The truth, mostly," said Ron. "That Harry'd gotten involved in some business with the Aurors related to some of the work he'd done for them after the War. It seemed the simplest thing to say, but I was very vague about what that 'business' might be." He took Hermione's hand. "I hope he doesn't hate me for it later."

"I hope a lot of things," said Hermione. "We'll just have to wait, I guess."

HPHPHPHP

The curtains were open and a weak wintry light was streaming through them when Harry woke again. Ron and Hermione were still there, and the healer he remembered from earlier. He licked dry lips and looked blearily at his friends. "You haven't left?" he asked.

"We went home for a while," said Ron, handing him a cup of water. "Hermione rather thought I needed a wash."

"I didn't say that," said Hermione with a laugh. "We both cleaned up and got some sleep," she told Harry. "We left while some of the Aurors were having a meeting in here with Kingsley."

Harry frowned. "In here? I don't even remember that." He looked out the window. "What time is it?"

"About 3 in the afternoon," said the healer. She waved her wand over him and gave a nod of satisfaction. "You've been cleared to go home as long as you take it easy for a day or two. No Quidditch for a week."

Harry groaned and leaned against his pillows. "Dam's going to love that," he grumbled."

"Dam and the team already know," said Ron. "We ran into him in the lobby of our building; he thinks it's going to be great publicity, that star Seeker Harry Potter is hasn't lost his touch in battling evil too."

Harry groaned again. He was grateful, he supposed, that he wasn't going to be in any trouble with the team, but the thought of having the events of the last days splashed all over the papers made him more than a little uncomfortable. These past months playing Quidditch had allowed him to put some distance between the 'Boy Who Lived' and the man he was now, and he'd thought it had been all for the better. But now memories of his time with Kane were back, and getting clearer and more detailed by the moment. He'd always known that there had been tension surrounding his leaving of the Aurors, but only now did he realize that he couldn't have exactly stated what that tension was. In his mind, the decision had been well-considered, despite its haste. He rubbed at his eyes.

"What is it, Harry? Are you still in pain?"

Harry looked up at Hermione and shook his head gingerly. "No, not pain, exactly. Just trying to . . . handle all the new memories."

The healer nodded. "The disorientation will subside," she said. "And no reason to keep you here while it does. If your friends want to escort you home, I think a private Floo connection has been established."

Harry rubbed at his eyes again, thinking. He needed to talk to Camilla and Robards, but the thought of doing that from the comfort of his own flat was more than a little appealing. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pleased to note that the dizziness had gone. "Yeah, I want to go home," he said.

"Right then, we'll go with you," said Ron. He looked at Hermione and she nodded. "But . . . maybe we should stop in and see Ginny first? And my parents?"

Harry flushed. He should have probably asked about Ginny straight away. But even as his renewed memories of Kane were crowding his mind, thoughts of Ginny . . . weren't. Even his latent crush - which he did remember - felt distant right now. That was a good thing, he supposed. It wasn't like he could go home and wank to daydreams of her while in the shower. He'd have to figure all that out, he knew, but right now it was easier to just not think about it at all.

"Yeah," he said after a moment that was a beat too long. "Let's go see Ginny."

HPHPHPHP

Any hopes Harry had that his visit to Ginny's bedside and conversation with Molly and Arthur could be brief - he knew he'd only need to plead exhaustion to be allowed to leave - were dashed when he entered the room with Ron and Hermione. Camilla and Robards were there, talking with Ginny's parents and Kingsley Shackelbolt. Everyone looked up as the trio entered but for a moment, Harry thought he'd gone deaf. Then the reason for the buzz of the Muffliato spell became apparent; sitting in a chair against the wall, kept there by the glow of magical bindings, was Shepard Kane.

"What the . . .?" Harry began. His knees buckled.

"Here, Harry." Hermione conjured a chair just in time and Harry sat heavily in it. Kingsley waved his wand to remove the Muffliato spell and some of Harry's disorientation eased. He knew he should acknowledge Molly and Arthur and the Minister but he found himself unable to take his eyes off Shepard Kane, even though the man wasn't returning his gaze. Kingsley didn't seem perturbed at the slight.

"Mr. Potter, good to see you up and about," he said seriously, Despite the fact that Harry had known the man for years, had joked and laughed and fought along side him as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Kingsley was all business now. Harry appreciated it. He nodded in Kane's direction. "What's he doing here?"

"We're still questioning him," said Robards grimly. "Trying to figure out if there's anything else we can do to help Miss Weasley recover more quickly." He nodded at at the bed.

Harry pulled his eyes away from Kane and looked at Ginny. "She looks a little better than she did," he said. "Down in the chamber, I mean." He just managed not to say that at the end of the ritual, Ginny had looked to be nearly dead. Now there was a little color in her cheeks and her face was relaxed, all the tension and pain gone.

"That's good to hear." Molly spoke up, her voice sounding tired but with the determination Harry knew meant her focus was in the right place. She patted Harry's arm. "I've lost count now how many times you've saved one of my children," she said with a small smile. She glanced back and forth between Ginny and Harry and he got the impression she wanted to say more. It occurred to Harry suddenly that he didn't even know if the Weasleys had known about him and Ginny. If so, did they still think the two of them were together? Were they wondering why Harry wasn't sobbing over Ginny's prone figure or something? He swallowed hard, looking over at Ron and Hemione and hoping they'd clear things up. Instead, Kane spoke up from the corner. Apparently, the wards holding him didn't limit his speech.

"Well, technically, Miss Weasley chose to enter the ritual alone to save Mr. Potter first, despite my best efforts to dissuade her." Kane spoke with the calm assurance of someone who was used to not being questioned. It might have convinced the healer, but Kane seemed to be the only one in the room who didn't realize that everyone else knew better.

"That's a bloody lie and you know it." Harry struggled up out of his chair. He reached instinctively for his wand and realized he didn't have it - he was wearing unfamiliar pajamas he didn't recall putting on. It didn't matter; Kane wouldn't have his wand either. Harry stepped closer to the man's chair, lifting his feet carefully so he wouldn't stumble.

"Ginny went into the Chamber because you wanted her there," he said Harry. "You've been pestering her about it all year, just like you did with me before that." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Camilla step forward as if to stop him, until Robards put his hand on her arm, shaking his head.

But Harry was beyond caring what information the Aurors wanted to keep from Kane anymore. He ignored them and kept his eyes trained on Kane. The man was still smiling mildly, as if Harry was simply a misguided trainee who needed correcting. He gave Harry a pitying look.

"Ginny went into the ritual because she stopped thinking like an Auror and thought only like a silly young girl in love," he said, shaking his head. "It's too bad; apparently Miss Weasley isn't the talent I thought she was." He flexed his hands and looked at Kingsley. "When will I be allowed to leave? I've told you all I know. It's a pity what happened, but now that Mr. Potter is recovered and Miss Weasley certainly will be soon, I don't think you need anything else from me."

White hot anger blazed through Harry. Kane was still pretending he'd been merely an unwitting observer to everything that had happened. Acting as if he couldn't help it if his quest to do the right thing had gone wrong because of the inadequacies of others It was how he'd always conducted himself, Harry remembered now. It had been one of the things that had made him both suspicious of Kane but also uncertain that such suspicion was justified. He was so smooth at deflection it had taken Harry months to see the truth, and that was only after he'd understood the extent of Kane's depravity. And Kane had been immediately prepared, had taken Harry's memory before he even realized what was happening.

"Shep," Kingsley began. Harry held up his hand.

"If I might, Minister," he said quietly. Kingsley nodded. "Go ahead, Harry," he answered solemnly. Harry felt a brief touch of support on his shoulder. He took another few steps forward. Behind him, he heard Kingley mutter a few words and Kane jerked to his feet so that he and Harry were almost eye to eye.

"What about your dark detector, have you forgotten about that? I thought I was the only one with memory problems these days, Shep." Harry didn't even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He heard a murmur of distress behind him that might have been from Molly but he ignored it. "You're so quick to throw the blame for all this on me or Ginny, but you've been trying to manipulate us into entering your ritual chamber together for over a year, and when you couldn't do it, you resorted to stealing my memories, didn't you?" A water pitcher rattled on a side table and Harry took a deep breath, trying to stay in control. Kane gazed at him, still calm.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Harry," he said. "Yes, I wished for you and Miss Weasley, Ginny, to participate together in the ritual to create a better dark detector, but what's the harm in that? You two of all people should have understood how much is to be gained if we can prevent the rise of another Voldemort." He shook his head. "Think of how much death and evil could be avoided."

"By killing babies and children?" Harry couldn't keep his voice from rising. The water pitcher spilled over but he ignored it. Behind him he heard sounds of disbelief that had to be coming from Molly and Arthur, the only ones in the room who didn't know the truth yet. Kane shrugged. "If a child is born with that sort of evil inclination inside of him, better to eliminate that one risk now than see dozens or more dead later." He shook his head again. "Voldemort killed his own father when he was only 16! He wiped out entire families for no reason at all! Certainly you can see the appeal of ending such terror before it even begins?"

"Even if your ritual had somehow worked - which it didn't - I would disband the Aurors before I'd allow it to become an agent of killing such as you've described." Gawain Robards came to stand next to Harry.

Kane shrugged again. "And that's why the Aurors will have to continue expending energy and resources reacting to Dark Magic instead of pulling it up by its roots from the start," he said. Kane seemed nearly oblivious to the magical energy crackling around the room. He looked at Harry.

"If the ritual had worked, you would have been able to see that I'm right. It's so much safer to effectuate targeted eliminations before they become bigger problems." He glanced at Ginny. "I suspect the ritual was close to working, close to providing enough power and knowledge of nascent evil to be a success. Unfortunately, the imbalance of power transfer ended the ritual just a bit too soon, before the last bit of Miss Weasley's energy from Tom Riddle could be absorbed. A shame, really." Kane cocked his head and Harry could hear the underlying meaning of his words.

"You mean, if Ginny had died down there," he said flatly.

Kane shrugged. "That was not my intent, of course, but having made her choice, Miss Weasley should have been prepared to accept all of the consequences."

It didn't matter that Harry didn't have his wand; he'd grown up watching Dudley pummel other kids just for fun. His right hook was true, connecting with Kane's face and followed immediately with a left to the stomach. Kane doubled over with a groan, blood flowing freely down his face. No one in the room moved to help him. Harry turned around, pleased that he'd remembered to tuck in his thumb that that his hand didn't even hurt.

"I'll need get my wand before we leave," he said to Ron and Hermione. "And then I'd like to go home and rest."

A/N: I'll admit, that last bit was quite satisfying to write. Happy to Easter to all who celebrate!


	39. Guilt and Consequences

39 Guilt and Consequences.

A/N: This chapter was truly a collaboration. Thank you to the Ginny lovers discord for asking tough questions and making a bunch of good suggestions. I appreciate all your help more than you know.

It was barely 6 pm when Harry arrived at his flat with Ron and Hermione, but he could think of little else beyond collapsing in his bed. Only a large basket sitting on the coffee table, full to the brim with Mrs. Weasley's home cooking, was able to deter him. How she'd managed to have it arrive at their flat while simultaneously sitting by Ginny's bedside was a brand of magic even Harry couldn't comprehend. As he sat down with the plate Ron handed him, he realized he hadn't eaten since before entering the ritual, and by the way even Hermione attacked her food, Harry suspected that his friends hadn't either. They ate in companionable silence for a while, but now that he didn't have to watch every word he said, Harry found his thoughts going to places they hadn't while he'd been at St. Mungo's. There, he'd been mostly concerned with the horror of what he'd remembered about Kane and then making sure he didn't get away with his plans. But now that the man was safely in a holding cell at the Ministry - his nose still rather crooked after they'd called in a trainee to fix it - Harry couldn't avoid thinking about the rest.

It didn't help that Ron kept glancing at him, as if waiting for Harry to begin the conversation. He was more than a little relieved that he'd been spared the difficulty of talking about Ginny in front of her parents, but now his brain wouldn't be quiet, thinking about how many things had gone wrong and what he might have done differently. He ran his hand through his hair.

"So uhh, it sounds like the healers are confident Ginny's going to be okay. That's good. I wasn't sure, umm, when I saw her in the . . . " He trailed off, realizing suddenly that he'd been the last person to talk to Ginny.

"She was in bad shape." Ron completed Harry's thought. "So yes, it's good that things seem to be improving for her. Thanks to you getting down there in time."

"She wouldn't have been in such bad shape if I hadn't been such a prat to her in the first place." The words burst out of Harry - the guilt had been hovering in Harry's mind for longer than he wanted to admit, at least since he'd talked to Ginny during the ritual. He twisted his napkin in his hands. "I should have gone with her when she asked me to. Forget the fact that we could have shared the burden of the ritual; we probably would have realized something was off with Kane and refused to even begin it. And then she wouldn't have gotten hurt at all." He shook his head in disgust.

"Harry, your memories were a mess because what of Kane did. You didn't remember refusing to recruit Ginny a year ago but you knew there was something off about her asking you to do the same thing and your brain rebelled. You can't be blamed for that." Hermione's practical tone only made things worse.

"So you're saying it's Ginny's fault? I was able to refuse Kane for all that time so she should have been too, right? She should have known not to ask me!" Harry jumped up, ignoring the shower of crumbs from the plate of biscuits he'd been eating. He paced restlessly around the room.

"But Harry, Ginny . . ." Hermione gave Ron a distressed look and he moved closer to her on the sofa and grasped her hand. Harry nodded at them while he cut off Hermione's attempt at pacifying.

"…But Ginny was in love with me and that changed everything about how she behaved," he stated flatly. "I get it, Hermione. But I don't fucking remember anything about '_us_' and that makes my behavior a million times worse. Because apparently, I broke her heart and then I nearly broke the rest of her too." Harry stopped pacing and looked at his friends. "You both told me what Kane had done, and you told me about Ginny. Maybe I don't remember that she and I were . . . what our relationship was, I mean, but I didn't disbelieve what you told me." He sat heavily in a chair. "I didn't disbelieve her either. I just didn't know what to do with it." He looked sharply at Ron and Hermione. "But it's not her fault for asking me." Harry rubbed at his eyes and wished he'd just pled exhaustion and pushed off this discussion for another day. Being inside the ritual with Ginny had been horrible, but at least he'd been able to talk to her face to face. At least this huge thing they'd apparently had between them - this thing he'd forgotten - hadn't been staring accusingly at him while he tried to make himself care. Harry wasn't stupid - he knew he should care. He should care a lot. He just didn't know how.

"I wasn't going to say it was Ginny's fault, Harry. Quite the opposite, actually." Hermione's voice was placating again. "She refused Kane's requests for months and months, practically told him to piss off the last time he asked her to try to get you to come to the Ministry. But when he made it personal, when Kane hurt you, she couldn't hold back anymore." Next to Hermione, Ron was nodding in agreement.

"You would have done the same, if the situation was reversed." Ron gave him a knowing look.

Harry threw up his hands. "Of course I would have, but that's what I always do, isn't it? Even Ginny knew about my 'saving people' thing." For a moment, Harry pushed down the thought of just how much Ginny knew a lot about him now. He shook his head. "The relationship wouldn't have mattered; we all know I'd have gone anyway."

"Maybe it didn't matter to Ginny either," said Hermione softly.

Harry didn't understand what Hermione meant. Ginny had gone into the ritual because she wanted her boyfriend back - wanted him back. The thought made him uncomfortable, but it was what it was. He didn't know Ginny well enough to believe what Hermione and Ron might be trying to tell him, that she would have gone to save him anyway, and trying to understand it made his head ache.

"If she hadn't gone and you hadn't followed her, you never would have known Kane's plans," Ron said reasonably.

"And you wouldn't have gotten that part of your memory back," added Hermione.

"I know all that," said Harry irritably. "But I can think of at least a half-dozen things I could have - _should have_ \- done differently that would avoided the fact that Ginny's still lying unconscious in the hospital. And she's going to wake up and find out that . . . nothing has changed."

His friends' silence told Harry all he needed to know. He nodded tersely at them before turning towards his room. "I'm going to bed," he said. "Thank your mum for the food when you see her tomorrow at St. Mungo's, will you?"

"You aren't coming with us?"

Harry didn't turn around when he answered; he didn't want to see Ron's face. "No, I think I'm better off . . . not. For now."

HPHPHPHP

Harry slept poorly, his sleep interrupted with odd dreams of flying through the Chamber of Secrets in his Arrows' uniform. He swooped down to pick up an 11 year old Ginny Weasley before she could get eaten by a Basilisk, only to have her turn into a mermaid as he carried her away. Mermaid Ginny gave him a saucy grin before flipping backwards out of his arms into a pond that looked a lot like the one at the Burrow, but every time Harry tried to follow her into the water, Ginny disappeared and Harry found himself flying over the Chamber alone.

He finally woke up for good around 7 am with an erection he refused to do anything about other than scare away with a cold shower. The door to Ron's room was still closed and Harry knew he didn't want to see him and Hermione before they left for St. Mungo's. They wouldn't bother him again about not coming with them and somehow, that made it worse.

Harry considered knocking on Dam's door and asking him to join in a workout, but he realized he didn't know what exactly the team knew about everything. He also wasn't sure his body was ready for a full-out run with someone else. He didn't feel dizzy anymore but still had moments of weakness or pain that forced him to sit down and rest. The healers assured him these would disappear before too long but for now, Harry decided to take it rather easy. A walk for some coffee seemed in order. Although Ron was still making coffee at the flat sometimes, he'd stopped his elaborate brewing schedule that assured a fresh, hot pot whenever anyone wanted a cup, and now the kitchen was cold and dark.

Harry trudged through the damp, gray morning, rather wishing before he was halfway down the block that he'd just stayed in bed. It was colder out than he'd realized; somehow Winter had arrived properly in the past days without him realizing it. He tried to figure out where in their schedule the team was right now and whether he might get to play before they broke for Christmas. Ron had mentioned something about talking to the Arrows about his "illness" but Harry hadn't paid much attention at the time beyond the understanding that he wasn't expected at the stadium in the immediate future.

Making a mental note to pin down exactly what was going on with work, Harry pushed open the door to the coffee shop and inhaled deeply. It was warm and bright inside, a welcome relief after the gloom of the morning. After ordering his coffee, Harry decided to sit and drink it instead of heading immediately back home. The shop was a Muggle one, cozy and anonymous, and Harry let his thoughts drift. He knew that he'd be expected back at St. Mungo's to visit Ginny in a day or two, unless she miraculously recovered before that. If he was completely honest with himself, he'd rather not go. He loved the Weasleys, of course, it wasn't that at all. But being with them for even the brief time he'd seen them at St. Mungo's had made him feel like he was on the outside of a joke he didn't understand while everyone else watched him expectantly, waiting for him to catch up. Anything he said would be analyzed for clues that he was finally remembering something, and if he was quiet, they'd talk about anything else at all, trying to show that everyone was _just fine_ with the situation and didn't want to pressure him. It would be quite horrible, Harry knew, but avoiding a visit was out of the question. He briefly considered suggesting that he visit her alone and then just as briefly rejected the idea, because of the _assumptions_ it would create.

Harry blew on his coffee and sighed, thinking that maybe he'd just head back home after all, when a soft sound behind him made him turn.

"Do you mind if we sit down for a moment? We promise not to bother you for long."

Katerina Bellows and her three sisters stood next to Harry's table, looking more subdued than he'd even seen them. After a moment of surprise, he nodded and gestured at the empty chairs around him. "Please."

All four of them sat down. Katerina spoke first. "We've heard what happened, "she said without preamble. She nodded at one of her sisters. "Nadia works at St. Mungo's."

Harry wasn't surprised. If anyone was going to be able to uncover the story, if was the Bellows sisters. But he didn't sense any malice in their expressions, or a teasing suggestion that he had to play by their rules, or else. They were solemn, looking anywhere but at him. Sascha twisted her hands.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she burst out. "I never meant for this to happen, for anything I brewed to be used for . . . for . . ." she broke off, looking very close to tears. Zoya put her hand on Sascha's arm, but it was Katerina who spoke.

"We're all sorry," she said. "I know we said so when we saw you before . . . everything, but now, even more so." She shook her head to herself. "This is not what we want to be known for."

"And you won't read about any of it in the Prophet," broke in Zoya. "I can assure you of that." She was still patting Sascha's arm, and gave him an apologetic look.

"It was my fault that people started saying you were . . . unstable . . . when you left the Aurors for the Arrows," she said frankly. "I was at the Ministry the day you quit and I overheard your argument with Shepard Kane." She gave a small shrug. "It was an interesting story when it was just a fight, but it became much bigger when you joined the Arrows less than two weeks later. I just didn't realize that Kane had tampered with your memory like that." She shook her head.

"Thank you, uhh, a lot, for that," said Harry. A tiny weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying lifted. "It's good to know that none of this is going to be made public. Ginny . . . Ginny doesn't deserve that."

At that, Sascha began crying in earnest. She looked up at Harry, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You don't . . . you don't remember her at all?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I mean, yes. I do remember her. Plenty about her. It's just . . . apparently we were in a relationship and I don't remember that." He shook his head. "You don't know how to fix that, do you?" He was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Sascha shook her head. "Without knowing how Mr. Kane adjusted the potion he gave you, it would be too dangerous for me to try to brew and antidote." She wiped at her face with a napkin. "I always thought . . . _we_ always thought it was all for fun. Flirt with celebrities, use our connections to to hear the gossip, write the stories, and then I'd . . . I'd help things along with a potion here or there." She put her face in her hands. "Never again," she said in a muffled voice.

Harry didn't know what to do. While the other sisters comforted Sascha, he looked at Katerina. "Thank you," he said finally. "I uhh, I appreciate you letting me know. All this."

Katerina smiled sadly at him. "Whatever we can do to help," she said. "Zoya is right; this is not what we want to be known for." She put out her hand, and Harry shook it before standing up.

"I'll, uhh, see you around, I guess," he said. Katerina nodded and gave him a real smile. "I'm sure you will. And Harry? When you get the chance, please hit Shepard Kane somewhere lower this time, will you?"

Harry smiled back. "I'll do my best.

Harry was still musing about how things had turned around with the Bellows when he entered the lobby of his building. Between the cold weather and the reformation of the most aggressive fan-witches, there was no one outside and thus no reason to avoid the front door, and Harry was nearly at the lift when he realized he wasn't alone.

Dam was sweaty and red-faced, having obviously just come from the run Harry himself had decided against. His face lit up at the sight of Harry. "Potter! Feeling better, are you?" he asked, panting slightly. "I heard that Doxy Flu is a nasty one."

Harry nodded. _Doxy Flu, right._ "Much better now that my fever's gone, thanks," he said, relying on the fact that Dam probably had no more idea of the true symptoms of the disease than Harry did. He looked around the lobby. "What, you didn't bully anyone else into one of your morning death runs?" he asked with a grin.

Dam grinned back. "Nah, let 'em sleep in. Last night was wild. We went to that new pub near Trafalgar Square and didn't make it home until the wee hours." He stretched. "I can hold my liquor better than the rest, you know."

Harry did know. "I'm sorry I missed it," he said. "A night out sounds pretty good about now."

Dam gave him a knowing look. "Ahh, but what use do you have with pubs?" he asked. "I'd think you'd much prefer staying home and letting Ginny nurse you back to health." He gave Harry a suggestive look. "And now that you're feeling better, well . . . " he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Harry froze. It hadn't occurred to him that anyone outside the Weasley family knew about him and Ginny. Hell, he didn't even know how long they were supposed to have dated or who else might have seen them together. The Bellows sisters hadn't mentioned anything, but maybe the situation with Kane had distracted them. Harry tried to remember if there were any old Prophets in the flat. Maybe he could look at the old gossip columns to figure out what public knew so that he'd be prepared next time. He didn't want to ask Ron or Hermione if he could avoid it.

"Umm, yeah, Ginny's been . . . great," he said lamely. Fortunately, Dam didn't seem to notice his hesitance. He bounded into the lift ahead of Harry and bent down to touch his toes as it began to rise.

"Is she waiting for you back at your flat or are you going to hers? Need to know which end of the hallway to avoid." Dam laughed. "Although I guess the both of you are pretty good at silencing charms, aren't you?"

_Ginny and I have had sex._It was a thought Harry had been trying his best to avoid even since he'd learned the truth while he and Ginny were inside the ritual. Now he faked a small coughing fit.

"Sorry," he gasped as the doors to the lift opened at their floor. "I guess I'm not as healed as I thought." He gestured down the hallway. "I'd better go lie down."

Dam nodded amiably. "You do that, Potter. And get yourself to the team trainers as soon as you're able. I'd like you cleared to play next week, if you can."

"I will," said Harry, turning away towards his door and hoping Dam didn't make any more comments about whether Ginny was waiting for him inside. "I really am feeling better. I'll let you know."

It was still quiet in the flat, and Harry was grateful for a few more moments alone. Dam's comments had rattled him. He realized that he couldn't just keep ignoring the truth about him and Ginny and hope it just went away. Too many other people were involved. He knew her family would understand, but for people like Dam and anyone else who knew, Harry was going to have to figure out a break up story or something.

He sat heavily on the couch. His coffee had gone cold - he'd forget to set a warming charm - but it didn't matter. What a colossal fuck up, planning a break up with a girl he didn't even remember dating. Didn't even remember doing a lot of things with, actually. He closed his eyes. Ginny knew, though. The thought was both discomforting and arousing. Suddenly his determination to avoid thinking of Ginny _that way_ seemed less important. After all, she must have thought about him like that, right?

And just like that, Harry was getting hard, and this time he wanted to do something about it that didn't require an icy shower. A warm shower, however . . .

Harry set more silencing charms than normal around the bathroom as he quickly stripped off his clothes. One of his favorite daydreams - that of Ginny flying up to meet him in the middle of an Arrows' training scrimmage - was all it took. His hand worked back and forth across wet skin while his mind was in the air, watching Ginny streak towards him on her broom. Normally she'd be naked, leaping nimbly from her broom to his in mid-air to straddle his lap. This time, however, she gave him a blazing look he'd never seen before, passing by him and then looking back, urging him to follow her. Harry didn't need to be told twice. He flattened himself against his broom and gave chase, feeling the excitement building in every part of his body. Ginny swerved suddenly, diving towards the ground, and Harry dove too, eager to find out what she had planned for when they landed.

He was still in the air when he climaxed, and as his body jerked it was as if the broom did too, pulling him away and preventing him from landing next to Ginny. She looked up and gave him a sad smile as he drifted away, then shrugged and shouldered her broom.

Harry leaned against the wall of the shower, panting through the aftershocks of his orgasm. It had been one of his best yet, and found himself wishing he could have drawn it out longer. Usually he was happy to get it over with - there was always the next shower to look forward to. But the look in Ginny's eye when he'd started chasing her was new, and Harry wanted to see that again.

He sighed, drying himself off. The events of the past days were obviously playing with his mind, as if his mind hadn't been played with enough already.

Harry heard the noise of Ron and Hermione in the kitchen while he was getting dressed, and on a whim, hurried out of his room to find them putting on their traveling cloaks.

"I'll umm, I'll come with you. To St. Mungo's," he said quickly, before he could change his mind.

Both Ron and Hermione looked momentarily surprised, but masked it well. Harry was grateful that neither of them made much of his request, just nodding and waiting for him to get dressed.

He told them about meeting the Bellows while they walked to the Apparition point, and Ron told him that Robards and Camilla were going to be waiting in Ginny's room with some news. "They were going to contact you later; this will be convenient, that you're coming with us," he said.

Harry was once again grateful to his friends. And the Aurors, he supposed. Everyone had respected his wishes with respect to visiting Ginny. Gawain Robards could have very well insisted that Harry be at St. Mungo's for the meeting, and Harry appreciation grew that he'd been left alone. That it was all working out anyway made it that much better.

Even though it had only been a day or so since he'd seen her, Harry thought Ginny did look better. She seemed to be sleeping now, instead of unconscious. Arthur clapped him on the back and Molly gave him a hug and Harry was pretty sure she was going to ask him something about how he was feeling or if anything had changed, but at the last second she closed her mouth and stepped back. He suspected that either Ron or Hermione (likely Ron) had sent a quick Stinging hex or similar to stop her from saying anything about his memory.

There was no time to say anything else before Robards stepped forward and nodded at everyone to sit down. Harry sat next to Ron, feeling a strange thrill of foreboding.

He didn't have to wait long. It took only ten minutes for Robards, aided by Camilla Stalk, to explain that, after everything Kane had done over the past year, the ritual he'd planned and then thrust on Harry and Ginny hadn't even worked.

"That's good news, of course," said Robards over the murmurs of indignation and shock from around the room. "Whatever made Voldemort evil from childhood was due to a unique combination of factors that I don't think will ever be reproduced, and Kane was crazy to try it."

"Was he crazy, sir?" Harry finally asked the question he'd been wondering quietly about. He'd seen real, fanatical madness himself - Barty Crouch Junior came immediately to mind - but Kane had always been so mild, and even open about his plans.

Camilla shook her head. "He's currently being analyzed in the locked ward," she said. But so far he's been judged perfectly sane. Just very, very misguided."

"The Greater Good," said Ron suddenly. "That's what he believes in."

Robards nodded. "It sounds that way.' He grimaced. "Not to mention, it's come out that he's had a hand in manipulating the minds and memories of quite a few of us at the Ministry, myself included. He's so subtle, it usually went undetected apart from the odd headache or moment of forgetfulness here and there." He looked over at Ginny. "I'll have to apologize to her when she's back," he said. "I got a little heavy handed with her during some of our training exercises. She always called me out on it though. I think that's part of what prevented Kane's manipulations from taking hold. He was very good at inserting small ideas and thoughts into people's heads and then letting them grow with the occasional comment or suggestion."

"Removing them too," said Harry bitterly.

"So there's no change with respect to your memories of Ginny?" asked Camilla gently.

Harry shook his head, very carefully avoiding the side of the room where Molly and Arthur were. He could feel their disappointment though. "None, I'm sorry." He looked at Ginny, still sleeping quietly, and had a stab of his own disappointment too. When she did finally open her eyes, whenever that would be, there was little chance he'd get to see that blazing look from his dream. He had no idea what was needed to put it there, but it clearly beyond him, other than in his fantasies. He stood up suddenly.

"I umm, I think I'll go now," he said. He looked over at Robards and Camilla. "Unless you need me for something else?"

Robards shook his head. "Once Miss Weasley is recovered, both of you will need to give testimony, whether in front of the Wizangamot or more informally." He held up his hand. "Don't worry, anything that happens will be kept very quiet. Nothing in the papers."

Harry nodded. "I appreciate that, sir." He glanced at the bed. And I'm uhh, sure Ginny will too, when she's awake."

"Which will be sooner than they first thought," said Molly. Her eyes were red but there was no hint of tears on her face. She stood up too and ran her hand fondly over her daughter's hair. "The healers are hopeful it might be as soon as today," she said. "I'd like her to come home to the Burrow to recuperate, but I suspect she'll insist on being in her flat. Where's she closer to Ron and work and . . . other friends."

Harry swallowed, feeling the attention of everyone in the room on him. "Well yes," he said finally. "It will be good for her to be awake and home. I umm, I felt a lot better pretty quickly, once I was in my own flat." He looked at Molly. "And thank you for the food. It was delicious."

Molly waved her hand dismissively. "And there will be plenty more, of course. I'm just glad that you're both going to be okay. And that maybe . . . well, that you're both okay." She looked down and this time, Harry suspected tears. He backed towards the door.

"I'll see you at the flat," he said to Ron and Hermione. "Whatever you need from me, just let me know," he told Robards and Camilla. "I don't start playing formally for a week, but I'll hopefully start practicing sooner than that."

Robards nodded. "We'll be in touch."

It was a relief to be back in the flat alone. Harry briefly considered another shower, but decided with some reluctance that it would be rather indulgent. He couldn't quite get the image of Ginny, sleeping in the hospital bed out of his mind, and that helped keep him grounded. Instead, he went for the run he'd put off that morning, coming back sweaty and exhausted over an hour later. After managing to control himself in the shower, he ate, reviewed his Arrows' playbook, and again went to bed early. He wasn't exactly avoiding Ron and Hermione, but wasn't seeking them out for conversation either. He would, soon, he promised himself. He just needed a bit of time to himself before he got the inevitable word that Ginny was awake and coming home. When he thought about how quickly everything had happened, Harry realized it had been less than a week since Ginny had gone into the chamber, and he'd only been told of his memory loss for a few days before that. It seemed much longer, probably because in his mind, he hadn't really lost anything, so the 'before and after' was less stark. It was going to be hell for Ginny when she woke up, though, and Harry wasn't going to be able to avoid talking and interacting with her. So instead, he was avoiding it all now.

His self-imposed solitary confinement lasted only another day. The second day after he'd seen Ginny at St. Mungo's he emerged from his room for some much needed coffee to find Ron and Hermione sharing a pot and some muffins on the sofa. They were oddly silent while he walked into the kitchen for his mug, and when he came back and sat down, holding out his mug so that Hermione could pour the steaming liquid into it. He sat back and looked at his friends.

"Ginny's awake, isn't she?" he asked.

Ron nodded cautiously. "Awake, and more," he said. She actually woke up that afternoon the day you saw her. Came home last night. To her flat; mum was right that she'd insist on that. She's here." He gestured to a basket. "We're taking her breakfast soon, after she's had a bit of a lie-in." His voice dropped. "Do you, uhh, want to come with us?"

Harry knew he was too quick to decline the offer but he couldn't help it. Even though he'd known it was coming, the news that Ginny was already here, just down the hall, was disconcerting. He thought he'd have more time to prepare.

"Prepare what, Harry?" Hermione was looking curiously at him and Harry realized he'd spoken out loud. There was no use making anything up.

"Prepare to see Ginny," he said honestly. "I'm not sure what to expect, but I can't just avoid her. She's going to be upset enough already."

Hermione nodded approvingly. "Best to get the first encounter over as soon as possible," she said. "It will get easier after that."

Harry sighed. "I suppose it's too much to hope I get called away for an emergency Quidditch match that lasts a month," he said. "I know you're right though." He looked at Ron. "But not this morning, not now," he said. It was too soon, and he suspected it showed on his face.

Ron nodded. "She probably needs some space too, I imagine. My mum's likely to be sending over food for every meal for weeks. Maybe tomorrow?"

Harry nodded and promised he'd think about it as Ron and Hermione left with the basket. Then he fell back on the sofa and contemplated his half-eaten muffin. Now he had an entire day or two to figure out how to talk to Ginny and it felt like both not enough time and too much. A long run to clear his head was definitely in order. And he would not wank during his shower afterwards, of that Harry was certain. While his long time crush on Ginny still lurked somewhere beneath the surface of his being, his libido rearing up every so often, his head wasn't nearly as into it as before. Other than that one really great shower he'd taken, Harry had been increasingly self-conscious about doing anything while thinking about Ginny. He couldn't quite get it out of his head that much of this was his fault, somehow. Indulging his physical needs on top of that felt overly intrusive of Ginny's privacy.

The run he took was a long one, clearing his head and leaving him with a satisfying ache in his muscles that assured him he'd be ready for formal training with his team soon. He kept his promise in the shower and it was only after emerging that he realized he was down to his last clean towel. His running clothes were beginning to smell rather rank too. Laundry was as good a way as any to kill a couple of hours, and he loaded up two laundry bags and trudged down to the basement.

HPHPHPHP

Doing laundry had never been Ginny's favorite household chore, but then, did she actually have a favorite chore? It felt reassuringly normal though, and that was what she was going for as she floated a basket around her flat, scooping up shirts and trousers and knickers. Her mum and dad had stayed so late the night before after St. Mungo's that Ginny suspected they might have wanted to sleep over. Ginny appreciated that her mother had studiously avoided any mention of Harry, but she wasn't sure how much longer she'd have been able to manage that if she'd stayed. It had been hard enough after she wok up at St. Mungo's, hearing Harry's name in Robards' questions and the healer's comments about their health. Of course, Ginny was relieved to hear that she "seemed to be recovering as quickly as Mr. Potter," and that her color was returning to normal, just like Harry's had. And she was furious to learn the extent of Kane's actions and the utter depravity he'd shown, taking Harry's memories to force Ginny to take reckless action to get them back. When Kane had known that going into that ritual wasn't going to make them come back.

Ginny brushed an angry tear from her eye and focused on her laundry. Ron was being more than decent, offering to bring the food their mum sent to her flat without her asking. She knew she couldn't avoid seeing Harry for too long, but she needed to have her emotions in check before she went over there for dinner or something like that. While part of her had hoped for him to be on a road trip - an extended one - the more grown up part of Ginny knew that getting that first encounter over with sooner rather than later would hopefully help with the pain,

Because _damn_, there was so much pain. Back at St. Mungo's, Ron had told her as gently as he could that no, Harry's memory had not returned. Ginny had nodded and changed the subject and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from asking more questions, such as whether Ron or Hermione had detected any change in Harry at all. They'd have surely offered the information if he'd shown improvement, so Ginny could only assume the worst.

So she had to be prepared, before she saw him for the first time. Prepared for Harry's eyes to look through her instead of at her, and for his private, knowing grin that he'd reserved only for her to be completely absent. Sure, they'd talked a bit more personallyin the chamber, teasing about seeing each other naked, and Harry had even admitted his crush. But those had been special circumstances and Ginny harbored no fantasy that they'd be able to capture that same level of intimacy again.

She wasn't sure what Harry was thinking now. She probably could have figured it out - she knew him that well - but she couldn't bring herself to go to those thoughts yet. He hadn't been able to hide his discomfort whenever she'd mentioned something she knew about him that he thought was private. It was almost as upsetting to him as it was to her, realizing that there was yet another thing Harry did not remember about the two of them together. And she just . . . missed him. Their relationship might have been new, but it hadn't felt that way at all as easily as they'd fallen into their friendship, and then more. The fact that even the friendship had been stolen made all of this even more cruel. Of course she missed the physical too, but during her particularly bad moments, Ginny thought she would give up sex with Harry if it meant having the rest of him back.

Maybe laundry had been a bad idea; there was too much free time for her thoughts. She could have curled up with her Auror's training manual instead; she'd be working from home for a week while she finished recuperating, and despite the fact that the was now the only trainee who'd faced Voldemort twice, she still didn't want to get behind.

She was carefully separating her darks from her lights, trying to remember the slightly different spells needed to wash each, when the door to the laundry room swung open and Harry walked in with a bag slung over his shoulder.

They both froze, staring at each other, and for one moment Ginny thought Harry was just going to turn around and walk back out. But then he took a deep breath and nodded, whether to Ginny or as encouragement to himself, Ginny wasn't sure.

"Hi Ginny," he said. He walked in and swung his bag of laundry onto a table. "Ron told me you were home from St. Mungo's. I was glad to hear you recovered so quickly." His tone was formal and he was looking at the wall over her head instead of at her as he spoke. After a moment, he bent over his laundry and started separating it.

"You too . . . Harry," Ginny responded. His name felt awkward on her tongue. She watched his bowed head, and decided to get one thing over with right away. "If I didn't say it while we were in the chamber, thank you. For . . . coming after me." She'd almost said _for saving me. _Harry's head flew up and he finally looked at her.

"It was mostly my fault you were there in the first place," he said, guilt etched on his face. He grimaced. "I mean, that you were there alone for so long by yourself. The healers said that's why it was worse for you than me." He seemed to run out of words then, turning back to his clothes and carrying an armful of what looked like underwear and bedding to a washer.

Before Ginny could completely process what Harry had said - _of course he felt guilty_ \- he turned around again.

"I should have known you'd go. Even though I didn't . . . and I still don't . . ." Harry broke off, twisting a wash cloth in his hands. Ginny gripped the edge of her basket to keep herself from walking over to him. "I didn't understand at first why you'd bother . . . after refusing Kane all year, I mean. Hermione told me that you were, that you are, ummm . . ." Harry took a deep breath. "I should be the one thanking you."

The formality in his voice was back and it broke Ginny's heart a little more. _He'd needed Hermione to explain why she hadn't hesitated to go to Kane alone. _Her answer was more emotional than she intended.

"Even if you don't remember, Harry, I do. I'm not going to give up that easily on us because trust me, it's worth it. _We're_worth it. And one way or another, I'll help you see that."

Ginny wondered if she'd gone too far. Harry was staring at her like he'd never seen her before and she realized belatedly that it was probably more than a little disconcerting to hear talking about their relationship with so much passion when all he remembered of Ginny was that she was mostly irritated with him. And that he had a teenage crush on her, which was likely only adding to his discomfort. She softened her voice.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so riled up," she said. "I know this isn't . . ."

"It's okay . . ." Harry began. Ginny held up her hand and Harry closed his mouth again.

"Don't," she said. "It's not okay, but I have to accept that, for now at least. And I promise not to push you about it again. I'll give you space." It hurt as much as anything to watch some of the tension leave Harry's face at her words, but she knew she'd pushed him too far.

Harry was nodding. He finished loading his washers and tapped each with his wand to get them started. Ginny rushed to catch up; she knew that Harry wouldn't stay in the laundry room waiting for the cycle to end and she wanted to be able to ride back up in the lift with him at least. Harry grabbed up his laundry bag, but instead of leaving immediately, stopped. Ginny stayed quiet, carefully focused on her own tasks.

"I was thinking," he said finally. Ginny looked at him then. He was rocking back and forth on his feet, a sure sign he was nervous about something. She waited.

"We should come up with a story," he said in a rush. "To explain why we're not together to people. Tell them we broke up. I think there will be fewer questions that way."

Ginny felt the air fly out of her lungs. Dam was the only person aside from her family and the Aurors who knew about her and Harry and about his memory loss, and none of them needed to be fed a fake story. Ron had been managing Dam with Confundus charms and Ginny had assumed they could just tell him the truth now that she and Harry were both home. He'd be understanding, she knew. Hell, he'd probably do everything he could himself to get her and Harry back together. But Harry didn't know any of that. It was easier for him to think about breaking up - it would take off the pressure of pretending. For Harry, at least. He'd have no trouble acting like they weren't together any more. Ginny nodded around the lump in her throat, all thoughts of sharing the lift with Harry gone.

"Good . . . good idea," she managed. She turned back to her washer and pointed her wand at it more harshly than was strictly necessary. "I'll umm, I'll let you tell Dam then okay?" she eased up her grip and got the machine running properly, but still didn't turn around. "He's the only one who knows. From the team. So it should be easy." She couldn't say anything else. It was quiet behind her but she knew Harry hadn't left.

"Okay," he said finally. "Good. I'll umm, I'll do that, as soon as I see Dam." There was more silence. Ginny walked over to her second washer. She heard Harry moving around behind her.

"I'll see you around," he said. "Your mum sent over a lot of food."

Ginny nodded, back still to him. "See you, Harry," she said. She just wanted him out of there. After another moment, she heard the door to the laundry room open, and then she was finally alone.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry walked to the lift, not sure what he'd done or said to get Ginny so upset. Of course, the entire encounter had been awkward and uncomfortable, but at least they'd gotten their first meeting out of the way, right? He was still deep in thought when he got to the lift and only belatedly realized Dam was there, holding a bag of take-away.

"Still won't send out your wash, will you Harry?" he said with a grin. He nodded at the bag. "Let me guess, you're doing Ginny's too, like a good boyfriend."

Harry swallowed. Here was the perfect opportunity to tell Dam that actually, he and Ginny had broken up. That yes, it was a little uncomfortable, but they were both adults and handling it okay. And that Harry was really looking forward to coming back to play with the team. But the hurt on Ginny's face he'd seen in the laundry room flashed across his mind and he found himself unable to say the words. He nodded at the bag instead. "Smells good, is that from the new place down the street?"

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny sat in the laundry room until her clothes were dry and then, once back in her flat, decided that a proper scrubbing of the place was in order. Merlin knew, she hadn't given the place a real cleaning since she'd moved in. She pulled down Mrs. Beeton's manual from the back of one of her shelves where she'd tossed it immediately after her mum had given it to her, and got to work.

An hour later the flat was clean of dust and the streaky windows were shining and Ginny had moved on to attack all the piles of stuff that seemed to have accumulated around the small space. She'd gathered up random books, knick-knacks, the errant cup and silverware, and whatever clothing hadn't made it to the laundry and piled it on her coffee table, determined to get it organized before she stopped to eat.

A knock at the door interrupted her. Assuming it was Ron, she didn't bother getting up, but flicked her wand to open it. "Come on in," she said, focused on her pile. Something lacy and red poked out from under one of her old trainers and she pulled it out just as a sound of surprise made her finally look up.

It wasn't Ron who'd entered, but Harry. He was holding a couple of towels Ginny didn't recognized and staring at the bra she was holding, a blush climbing his cheeks.

"That's . . . that's Katerina's isn't it?" he asked. "From that night I umm . . ." he broke off and turned even more red.

Ginny frowned at the bra. "It is," she agreed slowly. "I knew it must still be around here somewhere. She looked carefully at Harry. "You remember that?" she asked.

He shrugged, then nodded. "My hazing night, yes," he said. He walked a little further into her flat and the door swung shut behind him. "You took care of me that night, right? Even though you didn't want to."

Ginny's initial hope that Harry was remembering something new flickered out. She tossed the bra into the pile of things she was throwing away. "I didn't mind that much," she said.

"I'm sorry I don't really remember," he admitted.

"Don't apologize," she said. After thinking over everything from the laundry, Ginny knew it had to be said. "It's not your fault and it's not fair of me to expect you to remember things . . . to have feelings for things . . . that are gone. So don't." She gave him a frank look and after a moment, Harry nodded in agreement.

"But maybe you can tell me why you're here?" She stood to arrange several books on her shelf.

Harry didn't answer immediately. He was staring at her, and Ginny realized she had on one of his old Arrows training jerseys. He'd given it to her after she'd swiped it off his floor, to put on over her knickers telling her that he'd like the way her arse peeked out of the bottom when she bent over. She was wearing sweatpants with it now, and by the confusion on his face, Ginny knew Harry wasn't remembering her knickers. After a minute he shook his head and held out the towels.

"Are these yours? I found them in the laundry room when I went to get my clothing."

Ginny knew they weren't but she walked over and made a show of checking them anyway. When she knew she'd stood close to him for a bit too long, she finally shook her head. "Not mine," she said finally. "But thanks for asking."

Harry nodded, looking at the flat. "So, you're cleaning, huh? That's going to make your mum happy."

Ginny gave a small snort. "Or make her fall over in shock," she said. She pointed her wand at the kitchen. "There's biscuits there if you want."

"We have some too," he said. He walked over to her pile of stuff and picked up a stuffed Gryffindor lion. It roared and he dropped it quickly. "Fred and George?" he asked.

Ginny laughed again, feeling a bit of tension ease. "Of course. They have all kinds of magical creatures," she said. She put the lion on her shelf too. "I didn't realize I'd accumulated so much junk.

Harry grinned back at her and dug into the pile again. "Let's see," he said. He looked around and pulled out something that seemed to be made of a lot of folded paper. "What the hell is this?"

HPHPHPHPH

Harry told himself that Ginny's cleaning frenzy had nothing to do with his own decision to straighten up around his flat. He and Ron were typically lax about their housekeeping but generally managed to remember enough spells and charms to keep the place in semi-decent shape. Events of the past weeks had left the place a bit more worse for the wear, and Harry trudged into the kitchen to find their own copy of the same Mrs. Beeton's that Ginny had been using. Getting the sticky counters and crumby floor to shine was simpler than he'd anticipated, and Harry grinned wryly to himself as he wondered if Aunt Petunia's hatred of everything magical would extend to the ability to out-clean all her neighbors with almost no effort.

Unfortunately, the ease of the household charms did little to distract Harry from remembering the look on Ginny's face as he'd left her flat. He'd thought they'd been getting along just fine; it had't been nearly as awkward as in the laundry room, at least. He still wasn't exactly sure what had gone wrong, after all, it wasn't like Ginny didn't know about Harry's memory loss. He couldn't have been expected to understand whatever it was about that toy - that paper penis? - from Fred and George that had made her upset. Was it that he _had_ remembered snogging Katerina? He couldn't be blamed for that either, he reasoned. He had no control over what he remembered and what he didn't - Ginny had told him that herself, hadn't she? It didn't stop him from feeling bad about it though. Now that it was looking more and more like Harry's memories might not be returning, he'd thought he and Ginny were doing well at getting past the awkwardness of a history he didn't remember and becoming something that approached a real friendship. True, it was still a bit disconcerting whenever Ginny dropped a bit of personal knowledge about him that he didn't remember sharing, but he'd come to the decision that it was her right to have those memories. Since she'd had to give up so much else, that is.

But now it felt like they'd taken a step or two back and Harry wasn't sure what to do about it. He was sure Ron and Hermione would try to reassure him, but he'd involved them enough already and this was something he suspected he'd need to fix with Ginny himself. She probably just needed a little time, he reasoned.

Kitchen and sitting room were both as straight and clean as Harry'd ever seen them as he walked down the hallway to tackle his bedroom. Truthfully, the bathroom probably needed more attention but he wasn't _that_ crazy. And it made sense to go through his things before having to pack up for his first road trip with the Arrows since all this began. He needed his winter-weight practice clothes now, and they were somewhere in the very back of his closet. Sighing to himself, Harry decided he'd better start emptying things out by hand instead of by magic; it was a bigger mess than he'd thought. The practice clothes weren't in the first two armfuls Harry pulled out and dumped on his bed, and when he delved back in for a third, his hand met something large and solid he couldn't place. One good tug revealed a framed copy of Harry's official team photo - the one where they'd had to remind him to smile halfway through. Harry looked at it curiously, wondering how it had ended up in the back of his closet. The last time he'd seen it, it had been on the wall of his sitting room where Dam had hung in as a way to keep track of how many girls Harry had sex with his first year on the team. Dam had been getting on his case ever since to have the thing reveal the Harry had gotten some action.

Shrugging to himself, Harry carried the poster over to lean it against his bed. He'd figure out what to do with it later. He was about to dive back into his closet when a noise behind him made him pull out his wand and whirl around. The poster was _glowing_, and when Harry took a step closer, it began to _speak._

_HPHPHPHP_

Harry walked down the hall to Ginny's flat in something of a daze. The poster was awkward in his arms but he couldn't think of any other way to explain. He leaned it carefully against the wall before he knocked on her door, hoping it would wait until they were inside before it decided to say anything else. It had certainly said enough already.

Ginny had apparently finished her flat-cleaning and taken a shower after Harry had left. She answered the door no longer in Harry's old Arrows shirt, and the pajamas she wore instead were flecked with drops of water from her hair. She looked at Harry with an expression that was somewhere between wary and curious. "Harry?"

He couldn't wait, but grabbed the poster and held it up, walking past Ginny into the flat. "Have you seen . . . do you know what this said?" he asked.

A/N 2: Yes, I absolutely meant to end this here. And I'm not sorry.


	40. Harry Reversing

Ginny stared dumbly at Harry as he walked into her flat, shutting the door carefully behind him. He leaned the poster against the back of her sofa and gestured at it. "Do you know what it said?" he asked. The excitement in his voice was palpable.

Harry's face was flushed and his hair messier than usual. He was still wearing the same shirt and trousers he'd had on in the laundry room and nothing about them looked amiss. Still, it wasn't difficult for Ginny to understand what Harry had heard, and how it had made him feel. He'd admitted his crush on her himself, after all. No matter the awkwardness between them in person, Ginny knew that if the poster had said the right sort of things, Harry wouldn't be able to resist getting aroused. By looks of things, the poster had said the right things.

Even as Ginny watched, it flashed numbers, first a green **15** and then a red **1.** She flinched to herself. She could remember every single time she and Harry made the green number change - where they'd been, what position they'd used, what they'd talked about afterwards, what they'd talked about _during -_everything. She'd seen the intensity of pleasure on Harry's face as he climaxed and felt him shudder inside of her, his comforting weight collapsing on top of her afterwards while he trailed soft kisses on whatever part of her skin he could reach.

And now he'd come to see her after he climaxed alone, while listening a poster that knew exactly how many times Harry and Ginny had had sex. Ginny felt sick. What had the poster said? Why was Harry was here? She sighed and sat down on her sofa, gesturing him to sit down too. The poster was behind her and she didn't have to look at it.

But Harry picked it up and carried it over to the oversized chair across from her. He sat down on the edge of the seat and leaned the poster against one of the chair's wide stuffed armrests. He stared at his photographed face avidly for a moment before turning back to Ginny.

"It talks," he said unnecessarily. "It told me . . . do you know what it said?"

Ginny gave a tight nod, trying to remind herself that Harry had no idea what the poster really meant. She kept her voice as emotionless as possible.

"It's telling you how many times you've had sex." She couldn't look at Harry as she answered. "The green number is the number of times in total and the red is the number of . . . different witches you've had sex with in your flat." She couldn't stop voice from wavering. Given the rather short time she and Harry had been intimate, having sex fifteen times already had been more than satisfying, especially because they'd joked together about just how high they could get the number to go. Now it seemed to taunt her; fifteen times having sex with Harry wasn't nearly enough at all. And the red "1" - that number would have never had cause to change again. And now it very well might. Ginny bit the inside of her cheek again to keep the tears in check.

Harry waved his hand impatiently. "I know," he said. "I know they're the number of times I've had sex." His voice had a strange timbre to it. Ginny looked up, wondering if Harry was again recognizing that he'd had sex - lost his virginity - and couldn't remember it. Harry caught her eye. "It's the number of times I've had sex with you." He pointed at the poster. "fifteen times total, and only with you."

Ginny wasn't surprised that Harry had figured it out so quickly; she'd told him herself that the two of them had been intimate. He'd been understandably discomforted by the information in the chamber, but now it seemed like he'd gotten past that and found a way to enjoy the idea.

"I'm sorry you don't remember Harry," Ginny said tiredly. She rubbed at her eyes and tried not to look at the poster, which was flashing more insistently now. For the first time since Harry had lost his memory, Ginny wished he wasn't there. Before now, being around Harry had been painful, of course, but also a little bit comforting. Being able to see him, to watch for those things that _hadn't_ changed - the way he carried himself, his voice, his smell, even - had allowed her to pretend that she still had a tiny bit of Harry with her. And if she was being completely honest with herself, Ginny had also harbored the hope that maybe being around her would jog something in Harry's memory. So she'd resigned herself to put up with the pain of being around him as often as she could stand it on the slim chance that it might make a difference.

But right now, Ginny didn't think she could stand it. Harry was animated about something that related to her and she couldn't even share it with him. He was reacting to the poster like a teenager and it didn't bother him. Hell, was probably planning put it on the ceiling of his room and have a good wank whenever he wanted.

That wasn't quite fair. Ginny knew that Harry had masturbated to increasingly outlandish fantasies of her before they'd gotten together, but that had been different. It had been his secret. Despite everything, Ginny couldn't bring herself to believe that Harry would go right back to that place, now that he knew about their history. Even if he couldn't remember it himself, Harry had never disbelieved what Ginny and Ron and Hermione had told him. The Harry that Ginny knew wouldn't be comfortable with a regular wank to thoughts of her now, knowing what he did. The poster had probably surprised him, this time. Still, that didn't mean Ginny wanted to hear about it.

But Harry was shaking his head, and Ginny realized that he'd been watching her, waiting silently for her regain control. He didn't look quite as . . . post orgasm . . . as he had when he'd arrived. His eyes were still bright with excitement, but there was more compassion in his expression - compassion, but not pity. It was the first spark of familiarity Ginny had seen from Harry and it reassured her that his personality hadn't reverted completely to what it had been before he and Ginny had gotten together. He may not remember _them_, but just the knowing had changed the way he treated Ginny now. She wasn't sure if that was completely a good thing.

"I shouldn't have burst in here like this," he said. He raised his hand as if to touch the poster and then lowered it. "I should have figured out more first. I still don't . . . but I couldn't wait." He was twisting the bottom of his shirt in his hands and seeing that small, familiar gesture grounded Ginny. She gave Harry a sad smile.

"I can imagine," she said. "The poster can be rather . . . explicit." Despite herself, Ginny gave a small smirk, remembering how the poster had seemed almost sentient at times, changing and embellishing its comments as time had gone on. It was a kind of "thing that could think for itself," but in this case, Ginny knew that the poster kept its brain inside the crazy but rather brilliant minds of her twin brothers.

"It told me a lot," agreed Harry. "Things I didn't know." The excitement in his voice had changed again; he sounded almost nervous all of a sudden. Ginny saw him take a deep breath. "And it told me some things I did." He got up suddenly and walked over to the sofa and for a moment Ginny thought he was going to sit down next to her. Instead, he sat on the coffee table facing her; their knees almost touched. Harry looked over at the poster again.

"It said your name," he said quietly. "And mine. Did it do that . . . before?"

That wasn't at all what Ginny had been expecting and she had to think. "No," she said slowly. She shook her head. "No, it can't do that." She thought for another moment. "Dam didn't buy that option, to have it say my name, I mean, the name of the witch you had sex with. Me." She knew she wasn't making sense but Harry was watching her with a sense of expectancy and Ginny was overcome with the feeling that she just wanted to give him the right answer, that it would make a difference somehow. She shook her head again. "I don't think it can say my name."

"But it did," said Harry quietly. He pointed his wand at the poster and it began reciting. At first, it sounded familiar.

_**And Potter catches the Snitch - twice!**_

"Yeah, that was what it said . . ." began Ginny. She really didn't want to be reminded of those first times she and Harry made love but he was watching the poster intently, leaning towards her so far that now and then his knees did skim hers. He didn't pull away and Ginny forced herself to stay still.

"Wait, there's more," said Harry. He pointed his wand again, and Ginny heard the poster proclaim that Harry had now had sex four times, and then announce that Harry had brought one witch back to his own flat. He was watching it avidly again and for a moment Ginny wondered if his arousal was returning. But Harry didn't have _that_ look on his face, and Ginny had seen it enough times to know. He leaned forward and put his hand on her knee. "Just wait," he said. He seemed to realize what he'd done and pulled back his hand.

Ginny wished he'd kept it there, but then the poster shuddered and Harry made a low sound of anticipation.

_**And Potter Catches the Snitch - He Brought Home HIS One Witch! Harry Caught Ginny, it's Plain to See, There'll Be a Lot More Counting from Me!**_

Harry nodded and then sat back and smiled at Ginny. "It didn't say that before," he said. "It never said your name before."

"Right," said Ginny. "I just told you that, that Dam didn't buy the option to have the poster give up the names of the witches."

Harry nodded, he was almost bouncing up and down on Ginny's coffee table. "Because he figured he'd be with me at whatever pub I picked up a witch to bring home."

"I think that's right," said Ginny. The conversation was giving her a weird feeling of disconnection. One part of her was having a calm and rational talk with a Harry who felt like an acquaintance, while the rest was trying to suppress the ache of needing the Harry she loved. With him sitting right here in front of her talking earnestly about something that had concerned them both, it was more difficult to remember that he wasn't really here. The need wasn't a sexual one; it felt more like grief. But Harry apparently wasn't going to let her dwell there; he had more questions.

"And they couldn't get the two numbers to work together, Fred and George," Harry continued. "They wanted to be able to show how many different times I brought the same witch to my flat but they haven't been able to get it to work. The poster only announces the total number of times we've had sex _or_the fact that I've only brought one witch home." He shrugged. "Not that we need it to count higher, I guess."

Ginny leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. There was something about the way Harry was speaking that tickled her mind but she was too scared to pursue what was probably nothing. "The poster's gotten a lot more detailed," she said instead. She couldn't feel Harry's knees against hers now but that was probably better. "Fred'n George will be happy to hear that."

"Yeah, but, that's not from the poster." Harry voice was quiet. She felt another touch on her knee. "Ginny?"

"Hmm?" Not looking at Harry was easier.

The pressure on her knee didn't go away. "I said, I didn't know about Fred and George from the poster. I just . . . know."

Ginny felt an odd shiver in her chest. She carefully opened her eyes. Harry was leaning towards her again; his hand moved on her knee and then held it as if to keep her in place.

"What do you mean, you know?" she asked carefully. The needing part of her wanted to put her hand on top of Harry's. But it was also warning her to be careful, to not make any assumptions. Ginny made her voice stay even; they were just two acquaintances talking, still. Her heart gave another odd thump and her realistic side tried to tell it to stop.

She could tell Harry wanted to burst with his news and that alone made Ginny shiver again. He took a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice was as even as hers.

"I . . . I know what Fred and George wanted to poster to do, but couldn't get it to work. The poster didn't tell me that." He gave her a tiny, hopeful smile. "I think I remembered it."

Harry's revelation was explosive; instead, it caused them both to freeze.

Ginny tried to remind herself that the poster was only meant to keep track of sex, and that maybe Harry had absorbed some residual understanding of how it worked. Maybe Fred or George had something while she was still unconscious. Maybe Ron had a made a joke. But she couldn't not ask.

Scooting forward slowly so that she could pull back if needed, she finally gave in and put her hand on top of Harry's on her knee. His hand twitched and then stilled, gripping her knee more tightly. "Do you remember anything else?" Ginny held her breath, watching as Harry gave a jerky nod. He looked at her.

"I . . . I think I do," he said slowly. "It doesn't all make sense; some of it's just images I don't really understand. But . . . the poster kept saying things, _rhyming things,_and it made me . . . think of more things." Harry's expression turned distant, as if he was trying to recall something. "That's when I came to you."

Ginny felt a stab of understanding and then disappointment. "So you remember some things about having sex?" she asked. The rational part of her took over again, telling her that Harry was probably wasn't remembering as much as using his knowledge of Fred and George, not to mention his years of secret daydreams about her. But then the needing part pushed those thoughts aside. _Something was different. _

"Not just about sex," Harry said. He was speaking more quickly now, as if he didn't want to lose the words and he wasn't sure how long they'd stay. "Those memories are the strongest, but . . . I think there are other things too?" He leaned even closer to her. "I don't know if they're real though," he said. His hand twisted on her knee until his fingers tangled with hers. He held them without moving. "Can you help me figure it out?"

Ginny would have agreed anyway, but the raw vulnerability in Harry's voice almost undid her. Giving in to need, she tugged on his hand until she nearly pulled him off the coffee table and he had to stand up or end up on the floor. He gave her a questioning look but she didn't trust her voice yet. Instead, she scooted over on the sofa and turned sideways. Harry understood, sitting down next to her and turning so that they faced each other. He glanced at their clasped hands.

"It started with you holding my hand last time too, didn't it?"

Ginny still couldn't speak. She nodded instead, wondering what would happen if she gave into the tingling hope that was staring to course through her body. Harry shuffled a little on the sofa. "The poster didn't say anything about that," he said quietly. "About you holding my hand. I think maybe because it happened in your flat."

Ginny looked at Harry full in the face then, something she hadn't done since the nightmare had begun. His eyes stared back at her, searching. She licked her lips. "It did," she said hoarsely. "It did happen in my my flat."

Harry nodded, as if pleased to have that information confirmed. He shuffled again. "And we had sex at the Burrow," he said. He gave a small chuckle. "Apparently I talked in my sleep during a nap on this sofa after that night." He pointed his wand at the poster again.

_**Harry and Ginny Won't Let it Get Static, Not When They Have Sex on a Ladder to the Attic!**_

Ginny couldn't help but groan. "How long do you think it had to work to come up with that rhyme?" she asked. The voice in her head that had been telling her not to assume anything, to _take it slow, Ginny,_ was still there, but getting fainter.

Harry grinned. "Good thing we weren't in the garden, or I'm sure it would be telling us about what had a chance to 'harden.'" His face crinkled. "Is that right? We didn't have sex in your parents' garden, or did we?"

Some of the reality came crashing back down around Ginny. She shook her head. "We didn't," she said carefully. Hermione's warning about memory charms and _being careful not to stress them_ ringing in her head. "Do you think we did?"

"No," said Harry slowly. He rubbed a hand across his face. "I don't remember that," He closed his eyes and leaned back against the sofa. "There are a lot of images though, and they're coming faster now. I don't know if I . . ." He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "I want to trust them," he said, hesitantly, looking down at his hands.

"But . . .?" asked Ginny softly. She squeezed his hand. "If it's not what we . . . think it is, that's okay." She had almost said that if it wasn't what they _wanted_, it would be okay, but something held her back. The doubt that Harry, in this state, just didn't care about remembering her, was still there. The fear had dogged her sleep and even chased through too many waking hours for Ginny to give it up easily. She couldn't deny that something was different now, and that scared her even more. She waited until he looked up at her. "But?" she asked again.

"But Kane's ritual put thoughts in my head too." Harry scooted closer to Ginny on the sofa but she wasn't sure he noticed, so intent was he on getting the words out. "I had conversations with Tom Riddle that weren't true. It was all an illusion created by a wizard who didn't care what kind of damage he did to my mind as long as he got what he wanted in the end. What if this is all an illusion too?" Harry's voice shook on the last word; he looked terrified in a way Ginny had never seen before, and that was including the Department of Mysteries and at the Final Battle. "I have no control over this, I can't make it better," he said, so quietly that Ginny had to strain to hear him. Harry held up his wand. "If it was a spell or a battle or a dangerous creature I'd either know what to do or at least figure out as I went along. I didn't even think to ask questions before I ran after you into the ritual." Harry was staring at her, and Ginny could see unshed tears in his eyes. He shook his head at her. "Ginny, I'm so sorry, I don't know how to fight this."

The _needing_door in Ginny's heart opened a little wider. She instinctively ran her hand down Harry's cheek, intending it to be just a momentary touch. But he leaned into it, capturing her hand in his as it brushed across his jaw and keeping it there. He'd closed his eyes again and was breathing slowly, and Ginny didn't know if he was seeing more memories or struggling for control.

"But you _are_ fighting this, Harry," she said softly. She moved a little closer to him on the sofa. "I've seen a difference in you even in the time since you knocked on my door." She tilted his chin up to look at her. "You want to remember, don't you?"

Harry nodded immediately. "I can't stand not getting it back," he said vehemently. "And now that I'm seeing glimpses, I want it even more."

Ginny felt like the very air around her and Harry was fragile, and that one wrong word could shatter what she was starting to believe was happening. She kept her voice as even as she could, but knew Harry could hear the emotion behind it. "This is the first time you've wanted it back," she said. "Until now, you just . . . I mean, I thought . . ." Ginny's efforts to keep her emotions in check finally failed. She shook her head, letting the tears fall and taking deep breaths to try to stop them. She sensed more than saw Harry moving in front of her. His voice was very close when he spoke again.

"I remember giving Fred and George each a Galleon to help me win when we played Quidditch at the Burrow," he said softly. "You were so angry when those Bulldoggers wouldn't leave you alone."

Ginny looked up at Harry. Here was a memory that clearly had nothing to do with sex. She started to nod but Harry kept talking. "And when you got mad at me, all I could think about was how . . . beautiful you were, and it wasn't like before, when I'd just had my crush. It was the first time I really . . ." He smiled ruefully. "And you then you lumped me in with all your brothers and all I could think was that I was never going to change your mind about me."

It was a simple little story, one Ginny hadn't heard before. It was the kind of thing Harry probably would have mentioned the next time they were at the Burrow and someone asked about having a game of Quidditch. Ginny would have pretended to be indignant that Harry'd actually paid her brothers to help him win but would have loved the story too, of Harry thinking that she was beautiful even though she still considered him a prat. It made her think of something else.

"That game, the contest, it was before we . . . so how do you know it's something you lost in the first place?" As far as Ginny knew, Harry had forgotten that the two of them were together, that he loved her. This memory didn't fall into that category. But he hadn't forgotten his earlier crush. So maybe this was a memory Harry hadn't forgotten anyway.

Harry grimaced. "Hermione asked me a lot of questions," he answered. "A _lot_." Ginny couldn't help but smile, imagining their friend delving into every aspect of Harry's recollection. "She concluded that my last true memory of you was the night you moved into the building, when the team came to your flat. I remembered the break-ins and the Bellows after that, but not your involvement as it related to me." He shook his head. "This is a memory that's come back." He closed his eyes, thinking. "And then you made that comment about me not coming to the Ministry anymore." He opened his eyes. "All that was already completely fucked up because of Kane and we didn't even know it. I thought I knew why I wasn't going back to the Ministry and why I'd quit the Aurors but I really had no idea." He took both of Ginny's hands. "They're coming back," he said softly. "My memories of you. He gave a tiny shake of his head. I mean, my memories of us."

The voice of caution was still in Ginny's head. She ignored it. "I know," she said, hardly feeling like she could breathe from hope. "I don't know why or how, but they are."

Her agreement lit up Harry's face. "They really are," he said. He was staring at her as if seeing her for the first time, which, Ginny considered, he sort of was. It wasn't how she'd imagined it would be, during those few moments when she'd allow herself to imagine Harry getting his memory back. Those fantasies were usually quite dramatic - Harry suddenly bursting into her flat to announce that he remembered everything before sweeping her into his arms and then onto her bed. In that scenario, Ginny immediately accepted Harry's pronouncement without question and happily let herself get swept away. And they all lived happily ever after. It was completely unrealistic. Other than the part where Harry burst into her flat, nothing in reality was the same, but Ginny was more than willing to let things play out.

Ginny watched Harry's face closely. He'd leaned back against the sofa again and was concentrating so carefully - he so clearly wanted to get this right that she wanted to wrap her arms around him and reassure him that it was all going to be okay. She kept still instead, letting the memories come to him, and drank in the sight. There was a tiny wrinkle between his closed eyes that she knew appeared whenever he was deep in thought. His eyelashes fluttered with memories and his lips tightened and then relaxed with no obvious pattern. Ginny found herself staring at Harry's lips more than any other part of his face; with his eyes closed they were the most expressive part of him. She knew what those lips could do when they touched her skin - when they touched all parts of her skin. She swallowed hard.

And then Harry took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, finding hers. There was a long beat of silence while he simply looked at her. And then he spoke.

"I love you, Ginny." There was a small, delighted smile playing about his lips and Ginny could hear the certainty in the words. Harry wasn't realizing it again for the first time; he _knew._ But before Ginny could respond in kind, Harry's eyes grew tortured. "I can't believe how much I hurt you - I love you more than anyone in the world and I forgot it." He grabbed her hands again and there was anguish in his voice. "How could I forget something so important?"

Ginny knew better than to tell Harry it wasn't his fault . They'd even had a talk about it once, how much they both hated people trying to reassure them that things weren't their fault, like the Chamber and Sirius' death. She chose her words carefully, grateful that she knew exactly what to say. "Kane intended to take the most important thing from you - from us," she said softly. She rubbed her thumb across the back of Harry's hand. "if you didn't love me so much, it wouldn't have worked. It wouldn't have mattered." She ached to kiss Harry then, but held back. He had to make the decisions right now.

He nodded at her words. "That's true," he said. "It doesn't make what I did any better." His eyes blazed at her. "I'm going to make it up to you."

Ginny knew Harry didn't miss her shudder of need, and his eyes softened. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

In response, Ginny scooted even closer to Harry - she was nearly in his lap - and leaned in. She saw Harry swallow hard . He gave a tiny nod and then carefully took her face in his hands before meeting his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative at first but immediately familiar, and Ginny couldn't stop herself from melting against Harry's chest. He made a sound low in his throat and then his arms were around hers, pulling her fully to him. A slight twist of his head and Harry deepened the kiss, opening his mouth a moment before Ginny did. He made another sound of relief and Ginny matched it. She lost track of how long they kissed, she didn't let her mind wander any farther than the feeling of Harry's lips on hers or his hands playing lightly with her hair. She didn't wait for the next step; kissing Harry was enough.

He finally pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, and there was satisfaction in his voice. "I remember kissing you."

"I can tell," said Ginny softly. "I can tell you remember."

Harry chuckled then, and it was a glorious sound. He played with her hair some more. "But . . . nothing else yet," he said finally. He leaned Ginny back in his lap so they could see each other properly. "I . . . I want to," he said quickly. "But I want it to be right. I'm not ready yet."

Ginny touched Harry's lips. "We're not ready yet," she corrected gently.

Harry nodded, briefly closing his eyes. "I have a lot more memories," he said. "I need to tell you them first." He looked at her. "Can I do that? Will you listen to me telling you what I remember?"

Ginny nodded solemnly. "Of course I will."

"Even if I . . . get something wrong. I want you to tell me, okay?" He looked at her so earnestly Ginny again had to resist the urge to put her arms around him and tell him it would all be okay.

"I promise," she said. And then, for good measure, she added, "no matter what."

Harry gave her a smile. "I know you will."

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Ginny made tea first, and put together a plate of her mum's biscuits, the normal activities giving her heart a chance to return to a more regular pace, even if the tingling remained. Harry put the poster under Ginny's bed so it wouldn't interrupt their talk and then came back to sit down facing her on the sofa again. He took one of her hands in his.

"So . . . these may not be in order," he warned. "The memories didn't come back in order, and some of them were a lot more detailed than others at first." He smiled. "But they're all getting stronger now."

"Whatever you want," said Ginny. The tingling in her body was getting stronger and she tried to ignore it.

"What I want . . ." Harry began. He shivered, then shook his head. "I _need_ to tell you what I remember," he said firmly. "First." He closed his eyes again and began to speak.

"I remember the first time we really talked, here in your flat." Harry's voice took on an amused tone. "You'd just snogged Dam in that pub but I thought you'd had sex with him." He smiled at her. "And then we sat on your bed and you tried to figure out what type of witch I'd like, when all I could think about was why you couldn't figure out that the person you were describing as perfect for me was you."

Ginny laughed. "Brave, smart, likes Quidditch." She ticked off the list on her fingers. "Good thing I didn't ask you about hair color, hmm?"

Harry smirked. "You might have thought I was talking about Ron." He grew thoughtful. "And then when we talked in the laundry room right after you'd stood up to Robards."

"I'm glad his intentions were actually good," Ginny commented.

"Me too," agreed Harry. "The Ministry doesn't need any more shaking up at the highest levels." He smiled again. "That day in the laundry room was the first time we touched on purpose, not because one of us was trying to trip the other or something. We shook hands."

Ginny's breath caught. "I can't believe you remember that."

Harry brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. "I don't, exactly. But I remember you telling me about it later, after you'd viewed your memories in the Pensieve."

"When I realized I loved you," Ginny said.

Harry nodded. "That counts as a memory, doesn't it?"

"It definitely counts," said Ginny. "What's next?" She leaned in, curious to hear what else Harry had to say.

Instead, he blushed, looking down at their clasped hands. "The first time you caught us playing Quidditch in the hallway," he said.

Ginny could barely remember that day herself, she'd interrupted so much "corridor Quidditch," as she'd begun to call it. "Was that the one where you'd all transfigured your clothing to look like Harpies' uniforms?"

Harry shook his head. "I was riding a folding chair instead of a broom," he said.

Ginny remembered. "Oh yeah. You were showing off, flipping upside down and things." She cocked her head at him. "Were you showing for me?"

Harry shrugged, and then blushed again. "Not so much showing off as trying to control . . . things," he said. "You uhh, you were wearing a fairly transparent t-shirt." He shuffled on the sofa. "It umm, made me . . ." he looked at her sheepishly. "I had a really good shower that day."

Ginny laughed. "No mermaids then?" she asked.

Harry shook his head and Ginny could tell he knew exactly what she meant. "None." He leaned forward to kiss her again and Ginny felt him shiver when she moved her hand to his his waist. When he finally pulled back again, his eyes were dilated with need. "I have more memories," he said. His hand fluttered by Ginny's side as if he wanted touch her there. After a moment, he brushed his hand across Ginny's hip and made a sound of satisfaction when she shuddered. They looked at each other a long moment.

"I should . . . tell you a few more, shouldn't I?" Harry asked thickly. His eyes darted to the place his hand rested on Ginny. "Just to be sure?"

"You should," nodded Ginny. She scooted herself back from Harry so that they weren't quite touching anymore. He looked at her curiously.

"Tell me more memories, Harry," she said softly. She fingered the top button of her pajamas. "And every story earns you a reward."

Harry made a convulsive gesture with his hands; for a moment Ginny thought he was going to reach over and help unbutton her pajamas himself. Instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"The compulsive potion in the laundry room," he said next. "I remember that. It made me want to take off my clothes." A smile crept into his voice. "It was harder to fight because part of me wanted you to see."

"Very good," said Ginny. She shrugged off her pajama top. Harry cracked open an eye and examined the stretched out Gryffindor tank top she wore underneath. His eyes snapped shut again.

"The night you held my hand," he said quickly. "I confessed that I fancied you, but more importantly, you told me I'd become one of your best friends." He opened his eyes and looked at her hopefully.

Ginny had to laugh. "I think we need to keep this even," she said. She nodded at Harry's shirt. "Your turn."

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Harry couldn't stop his fingers from trembling as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the floor. The images of him and Ginny were no longer flying rapidly though his mind in a confusing tangle; they were just there for him to access at will. He suspected Ginny knew this now but it felt even more important to see their discussion to completion, especially with the new rules Ginny had made.

"The first time you told me you had feelings for me was in the garden at the Burrow," he said. "I remember every moment of that night." He grinned at her. "The walk there, I was completely sure you were about to let me down easy, tell me you'd thought about it and that you didn't have feelings for me."

"Ummhmm," said Ginny. She carefully shimmied out of her pajama bottoms. Her knickers were pale blue and Harry had to hold back from reaching out to stroke his fingers across them. "You weren't wearing knickers," he blurted out instead. "The first time we made love." He didn't even wait for Ginny's hum of affirmation before he was undoing his belt and pushing off his trousers. Until that moment, Harry's feelings of arousal had been held in check by a million other emotions. But Ginny looked right at the space between his legs and Harry knew what to say next.

"You love to watch me get hard," he said, pulling of his pants and dropping them off the side of the sofa.

Ginny was staring intently at that very thing. "I think it was my turn next," she mumbled, eyes not moving away from Harry's middle. "I'm glad you cheated."

Harry barked a laugh. "We cheated that night everyone was trying to figure out who I'd had sex with," he said. "Pretending to be drunk and getting them all pissed instead. That was after you'd gone down on me, of course. Right here on this sofa." Harry swallowed. "We kept getting interrupted, every time we were together. You'd get me to climax and then I couldn't return the favor."

"That's two memories." Ginny pulled off her tank top and then her bra and Harry sucked in a breath. Until that moment, he'd been only partially aware of the passage of time during his memory loss. But it suddenly felt like forever since he'd seen Ginny's breasts. He stared at them for a long minute, watching the way they moved gently up and down as she breathed. He blew out a breath of his own and watched with something close to fascination as they wrinkled at the tips. Other than the soft movement of her chest, Ginny was completely still.

At some point she'd straighten out her legs to rest loosely on either side of his waist and when Harry looked up he found her staring at him like she had the first night she'd told him she loved him, joyous and vulnerable all at once.

"I don't want to play anymore," he said heavily. "I don't . . . need to play anymore."

In response, Ginny pulled herself into his lap and wrapped her legs around him. Harry groaned to feel her weight on his erection and her breasts against his chest.

"I don't need to play either," she said, her voice completely content. "But I need something else."

Harry finally felt confident enough to joke. "I think you need something twice," he said. He stood up off the sofa, taking Ginny with him. "Or hopefully three times."

"At least," agreed Ginny.

A/N: The chapter ends here because Deadwoodpecker convinced me to post tonight and not write anything else. Blame her.


	41. Wards and Wands Part I

A/N: This is part one of a two-part chapter. I was going to make it all one, but I have 5-6 more scenes I want to add and I don't know how long it will take me to get them done or how long that would make the chapter. I really wanted to show both Harry and Ginny's POV about everything, and I think this works. I also think it's pretty enjoyable . . .

Harry carried Ginny over to her bed and then climbed up after her. Carefully, he peeled off the knickers she still wore and then sat back on his heels, examining her from head to toe. His erection jutted out between them but Ginny watched only his face. She didn't have a name for his expression - if she'd had to describe it she would have said he was confirming the last bits of his memories and was more than pleased with what he saw. Harry pressed his thumb against a freckle on her hip that he always liked to stop to kiss when he was preparing to go down on her and looked up with a shy smile. He didn't have to tell Ginny how much he was enjoying the memories of her, but it made her curious.

"Can I ask you a question?" She propped herself up on her elbow and stroked across his length. Harry shuddered.

"Of . . . of course," he managed. "But if you keep doing that I don't know how coherent my answer will be." He leaned into her hand. "It's been a long time."

"It has," Ginny agreed, watching Harry carefully. She'd had all her concerns put to rest when they'd been on the sofa but couldn't help but wonder exactly what Harry was experiencing. For Ginny, the last time they'd made love - before the Arrows game against Wimbourne where Harry hadn't remembered to do his special move for her - had been over a week ago. Even though she'd been unconscious for part of the time, the fear and worry and despair made it feel much longer. But Harry hadn't even known anything was gone for the first few days and even after he did, he didn't miss it. She sat up against her pillows and put her second hand on his penis. He was still kneeling between her opened knees but now he groaned and shuffled closer, and Ginny considered leaving her questions until later.

But Harry looked down at Ginny's hands and then at her. "Keep doing that. What's your question?" he said in rapid succession.

Ginny gripped him more firmly and sat forward off the pillows. "I was just wondering," she said. The head of Harry's penis was only a couple of inches from her face now. She licked her lips, losing her train of thought.

Harry put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't you dare," he said in a voice that was at once amused and aroused. Ginny broke out of her reverie and looked up. "Huh?"

"I'm taking care of you first, in all ways," said Harry, his authoritative tone muted by the fact that he was still straining towards Ginny's lips. She grinned and leaned forward a little more, her tongue darting out to join her hands. "I was just wondering," she said, teasing her mouth around his tip, "how long it feels like it's been for you." The question was serious, which was why Ginny kept her behavior playful. She tickled her hands up and down Harry's hips and he gave an involuntary thrust.

"I've been thinking about that too," he said. His hand brushed across her hair. "You know I can remember everything we've done together, but I can also remember . . . not remembering." Harry shook his head before pulling himself away from Ginny's lips and reaching down to cup her chin. He tilted her head back to look at him. "It makes it feel like a very long time," he said softly. "It makes me want to not leave you for a while, so we can catch up." He lowered himself to sit next to her. "It makes me want to hide away with you somewhere, for a week or maybe two." Harry moved to straddle her waist. "And I'll make love to you a million different ways and create a million new memories so we don't have to think about this week ever again." Harry kept his voice light but Ginny heard the remnants of pain behind his words.

"I'll hold you to that," she said simply, cupping the back of Harry's neck and pulling him to her.

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Harry knew he wasn't finished with those thoughts but he let go of them for now so that he could focus his entire being on Ginny. Through their maneuvering he was now lying more or less flush on top of her, his erection pressed between them. She tickled her hands up and down Harry's sides again and then rested them both on his bum, pushing him against her. He brushed a few errant stands of hair away from her face and considered how to figure out what to do first. "I want to do everything first," he confessed.

Ginny laughed, and feeling of her moving below him gave Harry another idea or two. "First, I think you'd better set some of your best silencing and locking charms," she said. She waved in the direction of her door. "I don't want to hear even a hint of your teammates or my family for, what did you say? At least a week or two?"

Harry grinned, grabbing his wand. "Maybe we'll have to make an exception for your mum to send over some food," he said, rolling off Ginny so he could properly direct the spells to hide them away from everyone else.

"The baskets can get through, yes," Ginny agreed. She turned on her side to face him.

Harry said a few extra spells, and the lights in the flat dimmed, save for a few candles Harry conjured to float around the space just beyond the end of the bed. Ginny made a sound of appreciation.

"You learned that from Witch Weekly, didn't you?" she asked, smirking.

"Apparently a bloke's got to keep up on these things if he wants to keep his witch satisfied," said Harry. He pushed at Ginny's shoulders until she was lying on her back against the pillows again. "And I intend to keep you more than satisfied." He moved one of his hands down between her legs. She snuggled into the pillows with a happy sigh and closed her eyes. Normally Harry would immediately scoot down to be able to focus, but he'd meant what he said when he'd told Ginny he wanted everything at once. He felt almost torn between wanting to put all his effort in bringing her physical pleasure and also in being able to watch her face and hold her while he did. His own needs took a distant third.

Harry kissed Ginny's neck. He hadn't spent nearly enough time there before, he thought to himself, always in a bit of a hurry to move lower on her body. Now, although one hand still cupped the warmth between Ginny's legs, Harry spent several minutes nuzzling and nibbling her jaw, around her ear, and then across her collarbone. Her hair tickled the side of his face when he lay his head against her shoulder to let all his senses take her in at once.

Ginny took a deep breath. "I like the way you smell," she said.

Harry resumed his exploration with his lips. "Probably like I need a wash," he said. "I was in the middle of cleaning my flat when I came over here." He was unaccountably pleased to hear and feel Ginny's laugh.

"Ron's not going to know what to think," she said.

"Hermione will be horrified, thinking the team got me a house elf." He looked at Ginny's chest. Her nipples had softened when he lay on top of her but now in the cool air of the room they'd hardened again. But there was a good amount of skin before he got there from Ginny's neck and Harry thought he probably should give it some attention first. He really wanted to touch them though.

Ginny was apparently unaware of Harry's dilemma. She ran her hand through his hair, inadvertently pushing him in the direction Harry wanted to go anyway. "Do you think we need to send a message to Ron and Hermione? So they don't worry about where you've gone?"

Harry decided to accept that Ginny wanted him at her chest too. "Probably," he mumbled, beginning to move to her breasts. "Later." He bent lower and stopped talking.

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Ginny caught Harry's change in mood. She appreciated that they'd started slowly, with soft words and soft touches as they both got used to what had just happened. But now Harry's hands and mouth were moving more purposefully across her skin and Ginny could think of nothing beyond the familiar feel of his lips as they captured one breast and then the other. She arched up and Harry slipped his arm under her back, pulling her even closer to him. His breath was warm on her skin - he was already breathing rather raggedly - and Ginny felt his arousal in the notch of her thigh. His tongue tickled over the tight skin of her nipple and then flattened against it the same way she knew it would lower down before much longer. Indeed, the hand not under her back unerringly found that spot, his fingers below matching the speed and pressure of his tongue above. Ginny cried out.

Harry froze for a moment at the sound, looking up from her chest. "Did you just . . ." he began, then shook his head. "I know you didn't. You aren't trembling nearly enough. You just usually don't make noise like that so early." Ginny heard the note of pride in Harry's voice that he was able to tell the difference.

"I know," Ginny agreed. "It just feels really good." She ran her hand through his hair again.

Harry gave her a pleased smile. "It does for me too." He shuffled against her and Ginny felt the tip of his penis nudge her opening and then move away. He swallowed hard. "My body definitely knows how long it's been. I . . . I may not last as long as I usually do." Again there was the satisfaction of knowing.

"I know I won't," said Ginny. Even without Harry's hands and mouth actively working on her at the moment, she still felt the thrum of arousal growing inside. It wasn't just the length of time she'd gone since release that was the difference, she knew. Harry caught her eye and Ginny knew she didn't have to explain anything else. He nodded, half to himself, and then shifted down her body so quickly that she almost caught her fingers in his hair. He rested his forehead in the juncture of her thighs and breathed evenly in and out. The rest of his body was still; only the slight flicker of his fingers against her back let Ginny know how hard he was working to stay in control. The feeling of anticipation in Ginny's limbs grew.

"If I were to . . . bring you to climax with my mouth, do you think you'd get there a second time when we . . . when I'm inside you?" Harry hadn't lifted his head; his voice was muffled.

Ginny involuntarily clenched her legs. "I wouldn't . . . worry about that," she gasped. For Harry had begun nibbling around the inside of her thighs, kissing up one and down the other, each pass moving him closer to her clit. "I might even . . . three times . . . yes, right there," she said thickly. She let her legs fall wider open. Harry put his mouth on her and this time Ginny's scream told Harry exactly what she wanted him to do. He complied moments later, sucking gently before finally flattening his tongue against her just like he'd done to her breast.

Ginny happily lost all sense of time or place. There was just this moment and this man and a connection made in the still seconds when he slipped inside her and then carefully lowered himself to lie on top. Harry cradled the back of Ginny's head in his hands and watched her, eyes wide. She stared back, and after a long, taut moment, he began to move. It was subtle at first - tiny pulses down below that didn't cause them to break the contact of their chests or hands or eyes. Ginny rolled her hips and Harry's eyes went unfocused; when they found her again there was a new sort of need in them. Ginny let her legs fall open a bit more and felt it inside as Harry slipped deeper, but still holding back. "Let go, love," she whispered. She rolled her hips again and Harry groaned.

"Come with me," he said, finally rocking against her.

If Ginny had harbored any lingering doubt about Harry's memory, it evaporated as soon as she rose to meet his thrusts - there was not a moment of hesitation before they fell into a rhythm, moving together. Harry was silent at first but as his movements grew bigger and less controlled he began to speak, the words falling out of his mouth and filling up the space around them.

"I love you . . . Ginny I love you . . . so much . . . so damn much . . . never forget that . . . never forget . . . I'll never forget again . . . I promise . . . I promise . . . I promise . . ." The words were an oath that Ginny witnessed by wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and her legs around his waist and crying out his name as she climaxed moments after he did. He breathed heavily against her neck and she drank in the scent of slick skin and satisfied desire.

"You're shaking." Harry's voice was low in her ear. Until that moment Ginny hadn't even realized it, that the physical release hadn't completely quieted her emotions. Quite without expecting it, she turned in Harry's arms and buried her head in his shoulder. He held her silently while she cried, stroking her back and occasionally kissing her hair, and when her tears finally ended he helped her sit up and conjured a wet cloth for her face and a cup of water for her to drink. When he spoke, the calm in his voice belied the anguish Ginny knew her tears had caused him.

"I'll never do anything to cause you such pain again." His eyes searched hers, begging her to agree.

"Harry," Ginny began. She didn't need him to make that sort of promise.

He shook his head to himself. "I will never completely forgive myself for how much I forgot." He was almost talking to himself. "I will never understand how the hell I . . . I can throw off the Imperius Curse. I've survived the Avada Kedavra, been under the Crutiatus. I should have been able to . . ." Harry caught her eyes again and then looked away. Ginny suspected that if she wasn't in his lap, he might have jumped up and started pacing. "I should have known what I'd lost. I should have felt it." He twisted the blankets in his hands. "How can I expect you to believe it when I tell you I love you - and Merlin Ginny, I love you so much - when I forgot it so easily?" Harry's voice rose. "How could I have almost lost something so fucking important?" He dropped his head onto Ginny's shoulder.

She waited until his breathing slowed before answering. "Are you done brooding?" she asked, not harshly, but in a voice she hoped suggested there was only one right answer.

After a moment, Harry looked up at her, surprised. "For now." A smile quirked at the edge of his lips.

Ginny put her hand on Harry's cheek. "That's probably the best we can hope for, I think." She knew that even if they made love a dozen times over the next few days - and she certainly hoped they did - it would not be enough to heal them completely. She hoped Harry understood that her tears were much more from the release of pain than the pain itself and she suspected there would be more from both of them in the future. She reached up and kissed Harry lightly on the lips.

"I love you, Harry."

Harry kissed her back. "I know," he said, the answer all the affirmation she needed that he believed. He smiled ruefully. "I guess it was too much to hope that sex would make everything better."

Ginny chuckled. "Sex did make everything better. Just not all better." She reached down between them. "We'll keep working on it, though." Harry twitched against her hand.

"Whatever I can do to help," he said solemnly. Ginny was pleased to see that he'd taken her words to heart. There was longing in his eyes when he kissed her again and Ginny let him lay her down again in the blankets and cover his body with hers.

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Ron looked confusedly around his flat before turning to his girlfriend. "D'you think my mum was here? It looks really . . . clean."

Hermione opened the icebox. "There's no new food," she said, peering inside. "So I'd say no." She looked back at Ron, concerned. "Who else could have gotten into the flat?"

"No one," said Ron grimly. He twirled slowly in a circle, speaking a series of spells. "Nothing seems amiss." He shook his head. "And Harry's memory loss didn't make him forget he doesn't mind living in clutter." He frowned.

"Could Ginny have done this?" asked Hermione. "She's been so upset, maybe she needed an outlet for her energy." She pointed at the kitchen. "Whoever it was didn't take the biscuits your mum sent yesterday, and Ginny's the only one who has some of her own."

Ron nodded. "We should go ask her."

They walked down the hall. Ron tried to knock on Ginny's door and yelped in surprise when his hand wouldn't make contact with the wood, bouncing off an invisible barrier instead. "What the?" he asked. He shot a simple spell at the door, and then a more complex one. Both ricocheted harmlessly away. He looked at Hermione, worried. "She warded it," he said. "And warded it well; that second spell was one I learned at the Aurors."

"She must really need some time alone to think," said Hermione softly. "If we don't see her soon we'll send a Patronus."

Ron nodded. "Good idea."

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"Do you think that if I'd just started kissing you down in that chamber, you would have gotten your memory back right then?" Ginny's voice was as lazy as the circles she was tracing on his belly and for a moment, Harry didn't process what she was saying.

"Huh, what? If you'd kissed me where?" They'd woken to make love in the middle of the night and Harry's body and mind were both pleasantly drowsy as they readied themselves for another round later. Ginny wanted to have sex in the shower and Harry wanted to be fully rested for that. There would likely be some lifting and balancing required.

"Well, if I kissed you here, and . . . here," said Ginny, her lips trailing slowly across the space her fingers had been stroking. And then a little lower, like . . . here."

Harry was suddenly less sure they'd make it to the shower any time soon. He let his head fall back on the pillows and gave mostly into the sensation of Ginny's lips on his skin. "But did you say something about the fake chamber?" he mumbled.

Ginny looked up from between his legs, eyes bright with arousal, and something else. "I would have done anything to get your memory back," she said plainly. "I wonder why it didn't occur to me to just start snogging you, especially after you confessed that you fancied me. Again." She gave him a smirk and dropped her head back to her task.

It was a rather serious topic of conversation for their present activity but Harry wasn't entirely surprised. They still both had the need to talk about what had happened and it was easier somehow if those conversations occurred when they weren't taking themselves completely seriously. Harry had almost gotten over his guilt (completely undeserved, Ginny kept reminding him) over the way he'd treated her when under the memory charm and Ginny understood that taking her concerns to Robards or Kingsley sooner wouldn't have made much of a difference since they'd had no real proof. Still, they both harbored enough residual _what the hell happened_ to need to talk about it every so often, and being naked made those discussions easier to manage.

Ginny moved her tongue in a particularly interesting way and Harry stopped trying to answer for couple of seconds. When she pulled back and rested her head on his leg, he swallowed hard. "I probably would have let you kiss me for a while," he admitted. He smirked. "I could have used it as another of my shower fantasies."

Ginny snorted and started kissing the inside of Harry's thigh, one of her hands resting heavily on his length. She just left it there, not moving or anything, and Harry had to force himself not to wiggle. What he didn't say was that he probably would have let him do anything she wanted to, down in the middle of the ritual, as proof that he was just imagining the pain he saw flash across her face and that the weakness in her limbs wasn't as bad as he suspected.

Ginny's hand finally moved on him. "I'm just glad you can do things now," he gasped, hips bucking of their own accord.

Ginny planted one more wet, open kiss on his tip before crawling up Harry's body and meeting his eyes with hers. "All kinds of things," she agreed. "Things you aren't ever going to forget."

"No chance of that," said Harry firmly. He grasped her bum in his hands and lowered her down. "I guess the shower is later?" he asked.

"Mmhmm, later," Ginny agreed. "I want to give you a proper blow job in the shower."

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"Well?" Hermione mumbled sleepily from Ron's bed.

"Still can't get close to her door," Ron said, slipping beneath the covers. Hermione startled when his cold feet met hers.

"It _is_ 5 in the morning. She probably plans to take down the wards later today." Hermione pulled her feet away. "And remember what I told you about warming your feet before you get in bed?"

"Sorry," said Ron. He sat up again. "I could send her coffee."

"What?"

Ron picked up his wand. "I'll send her a mug of coffee with a warming charm. It will be waiting outside her flat when she takes down the wards. She'll like that."

"Glad to know you remember the warming charms for something at least."

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It was very late at night, nearly morning actually, when they finally fell asleep, curled up around each other and sharing a pillow. Despite that, Ginny awoke a few hours later, as if her body only needed a brief kip before being ready for the day.

Harry was already awake. He hadn't moved much; Ginny had woken up with him spooning her from behind while he idly ran his fingers up and down her arm. Despite the close proximity of him to her bum, Ginny couldn't feel a hint of arousal. She rolled over to face him, unsurprised to see the tightness on his face. He glanced briefly at her, and then away. She waited.

"You never would have given up on me, would you? Even if I hadn't ever remembered." It wasn't really a question.

Ginny shook her head. "Never." She looked down and marshaled some of the thoughts she'd found during the long horrible nights when all hope had seemed lost. "I would never have stopped fighting for you. But sometimes I thought that . . . if you never got your memories back . . . that maybe we'd still find a way to fall in love again." She looked cautiously at Harry and was unsurprised to see the anger on his face.

"And what if I'd continued to be too much of a prat this time? What if I hadn't been someone you'd want to fall in love with?" Harry pushed away from Ginny and sat up, scooting over to sit against the end of her bed. "You shouldn't have had to wait for me, for someone who wasn't good enough for you."

"I was already in love with you Harry," said Ginny. "That wasn't going to change." She grimaced. "I was a lot more worried about whether you'd ever want to be in love with me." She hadn't meant to admit that, and Harry's face grew even more tortured.

"I had so much to lose and I didn't even know it." Harry wrapped his arms around his knees. "All those years I wasted on my stupid, unrealistic crush, when instead I could have been getting to know you for real. And then, when I finally get it right, when I finally fall in love with you for real and know that you actually love me, I almost throw it all away." He balled his fists. "And of course you wouldn't give up on me, no matter how much I hurt you." He stopped talking then, but looked at Ginny with a pleading expression.

"If the situation had been reversed, you wouldn't have given up on me." Ginny kept her tone even and logical. She gave Harry a piercing look. "Or would you?"

"Of course not," Harry burst out. "Of course I wouldn't have given up." He rubbed at his eyes. "But it's not the same."

Ginny scooted forward and punched Harry lightly in the arm. "It's exactly the same, Harry." He started to interrupt and she held up her hand. "If you're trying to tell me that you're the only one who had the right to . . . not give up because you'd been operating under years and years of secretly fancying me, and my love was new, well then . . ." Ginny shook her head. "I know that's not what you're saying.

"It's not." Harry shook his head. "I just can't think of you in that much pain."

Ginny took Harry's hands in hers, gently massaging out his fists. "It's even," she said softly. "And we don't have to worry about it anymore because it's over." She ran her hand down Harry's bare hip. "I know that doesn't make it all better, but from now on let's just agree that it was equally horrible for both of us, because it was." She kept Harry's eyes on her until he nodded, and after a moment he opened his legs and pulled her to him. "I was hurting . . . and hurting you, and I didn't even know it," he said against her hair.

"I know," said Ginny. She traced his lips with her hand. "But I'm not hurting nearly as much anymore, and less all the time."

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. "Me too," he admitted.

Ginny scooted back towards the top of the bed, pulling Harry along with her. "Can we get under the blankets again? I'm kind of freezing." Harry nodded, following along and opening his arms when Ginny snuggled close. "Will you hold me?"

He chuckled softly. "You have to ask?"

Ginny put her head on his chest. "For the record, I think we would have fallen in love again."

Harry tightened his arms around her. "I do too."

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"The coffee's gone but the wards are still in place." Ron shook his head. "I don't like it."

"I'm sure she just wants her privacy." Hermione looked down the hallway. "Harry too, apparently. I haven't seen him at all, have you?"

"He said something the other day about starting to train at the Arrows' facility. If I know Harry, he's working his balls off right now to get back in shape."

"Such language, Ron."

"That still doesn't help us figure out what's wrong with Ginny." Ron stood up. "I think we should contact Bill."

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"Harry."

"HARRY."

"Mmm?" He finally looked up at Ginny from the spot he was kissing along her stomach.

"Do you realize that, by my count, this is the fourth time you've gone down on me since yesterday?"

Harry dropped his head back to Ginny's hip. "Is that a problem?" he asked. He kissed his favorite freckle.

Ginny tried to keep her voice even. "Not exactly a . . . problem." With the greatest of effort she pushed herself away from Harry's mouth and into a siting position. He raised his eyebrows.

"It's that you still won't let me go first. I've given you what, half a blow job? At most?" She scooted over to slide off the bed.

Harry sat up too. "Why are you getting out of bed? I thought you wanted to give me more than half a blow job," he teased.

"In the shower. I want to give you a blow job in the shower," she said decisively, pleased to see Harry swallow hard.

"Okay," he said, jumping out of bed after her. His erection jutted out in front of him. "Damn, it's cold," he said. He looked down. "It should be bigger."

Ginny smirked. "I'm sure I can take care of that shortly," she said. She grabbed his hand and tugged him the direction of her bathroom.

Harry darted in front of her. "Hold on, let me do something first." He pointed his wand at the bathtub and muttered a spell before turning around and grinning. "It's another Witch Weekly special," he said. "Softens the floor of the tub. You know, so your knees don't start to hurt."

Ginny tapped her wand against the faucets and warm water began pouring out of the shower jet. She spoke up so Harry could hear her over the sound. "Oh, I'll get you off well before my knees get sore," she said, looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Witch." Harry wrapped her in his arms and sighed happily. "I like being naked with you. Naked and warm."

"We'll make it a rule," said Ginny. "Whenever we're alone we have to be naked."

Harry laughed. "That will make it difficult to do things like go flying together," he said. "How about when we're alone in one of our flats, we can't wear any clothing. Unless of course, one of puts some on so the other can just take them off."

Ginny was happy to see that some of the shadowed pain was leaving Harry's face. She still caught him watching her with a look a regret every so often, but the worst of the brooding had stopped around the third time they'd had sex. It would take a long time to go away completely, she knew, but it wasn't going to be the Hippogriff in the room either.

The shower was wonderfully warm and smelled of flowers. Harry breathed in deeply as he climbed in. "Even when I thought you were irritating and whiny I loved the smell of your shampoo," he confessed.

Ginny playfully pushed him until he stood against the tiled wall. "Irritating and whiny?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Now, why _ever_ would you want someone to put their _irritating and whiny_ mouth on you?" She looked purposefully down at Harry's waist, slowly licked her lips, and then turned her back on him, making a show of grabbing the soap. "Maybe I'll just wash my _irritating and whiny_ body by myself," she said, backing up underneath the spray. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the water flow over her head and down her body. "I think my breasts are particularly dirty," she said, rubbing across one and then the other. She paused, playing with her nipple until it hardened in her hand; she could sense Harry's attention on her. "Of course, that's not the only pace that needs to be cleaned," she continued. Ginny let her hand wander lower. "I wonder how _irritating_ it is to watch and not be able to touch." She swirled her fingers around the outside of her folds. "Does is make you _whiny_ to think you can't find out for yourself how wet I am?" She slipped a finger inside. "And I'm not talking about from the shower." Ginny opened her eyes, intending to give Harry a flirting smile, and almost choked on water at the sight of him.

Harry's eyes were wide and dilated, watching her. One hand was braced against the wall of the shower while he stroked himself with the other; Ginny could see a bead of wetness at the tip of his penis. She licked her lips again and Harry's hand began to move faster. "I don't think you're whiny or irritating anymore," he said thickly. He took a step towards her.

Ginny reached out and pulled Harry to her. "Let me," she said, dropping carefully to her knees. She put her hands on his hips and grinned up at him. "It really is soft," she said.

Harry chuckled and stepped closer. "But you're right; you're not going to be down there long." He rested his hands gently on her head.

Harry was already so hard that Ginny decided to dispense with her usually licking and teasing. She had planned for Harry to finish in her mouth, but the build up between the two of them had her thinking about how it would feel to straddle him on the softened floor of the shower and ride him there. She took all of him in, sucking first and then pushing him against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. He made a sound above her and she cupped his sac with one hand, stroking lightly in a way she knew was so intense that he could only stand it when he'd already come once or twice before that day. Ginny pulled back and pursed her lips against Harry's tip, opening slowly to accept his thrusts. He swore, and Ginny felt his legs tremble against her. She pulled back again.

"Get down here," she gasped, and Harry didn't hesitate, dropping down to sit in the bottom of the tub. Ginny climbed into his lap and down onto his erection in one fluid motion and he rose up to meet her. They rocked together, Ginny's arms wrapped around Harry's neck and his around her waist. Ginny was acutely aware of the feeling of Harry inside her and the feeling of how she pulsed around him even without either of them moving enough to thrust. He was breathing heavily against her neck and he groaned out her name, begging for release. Ginny loosened her grip and Harry slipped his hands under her thighs and began to move her up and down, rising himself to meet her. "Fuck Ginny, that's . . . oh Fuck." Harry's movements grew more frantic. Ginny whispered a dirty word in his ear and Harry groaned, thrusting up with his climax and then holding her firmly in place as he spilled into her. Ginny met him a moment later, shuddering. She dropped her head onto his neck, feeling the warm water sluicing over her and then the softer feeling of Harry's hands. He'd found the soap she'd dropped, and for long minutes she sat silently in his arms while he washed up and down her arms and across her back, still not speaking when he moved her carefully out of his lap to attend to her front. They finally stood together under the water while Ginny washed Harry with equal care, touching him lightly and without any intent of arousal. They wrapped in towels and Harry performed drying charms on both of them before they left the warmth of the loo, discarding their towels along the way back to Ginny's bed. It was only when they were snuggled together under the covers that Harry spoke.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Ginny knew what he was saying. "I love you." She yawned and Harry chuckled.

"Yeah, me too" he said, sliding them both down onto the pillow.


	42. The Poster Again

The next time Harry and Ginny woke up, they had something to eat. It was dim and gray outside and Harry wasn't even sure what time it was, so when Ginny pulled a variety of leftovers out of her icebox, he couldn't decide if he wanted stew or breakfast pastries or a slice of cold pizza. They sat at Ginny's kitchen table and laughed about the fact that this was the first time they'd worn any sort of clothing for a while, Ginny complementing Harry's transfiguration of his trousers and shirt into more comfortable pajamas.

"I just hope my counter spell is just as effective; I don't know what Ron and Hermione will say if I return to my flat like this," said Harry, gesturing down at his pajama bottoms. "And Merlin help up if I run into Dam or anyone on the way."

Ginny snorted. Harry's first attempt at transfiguration had resulted in perfectly serviceable, albeit somewhat baggy, blue and white striped pajamas. When she had joked about how she'd miss seeing his muscles, he'd screwed up his eyes in concentration, shrinking the outfit to hug his body and reducing the button down top to look like one of his fitted Arrows practice t-shirts. But what had really delayed their breakfast was the fact that Harry's bottoms were now covered with little stick-figure Harrys and Ginnys engaging over and over in acts that Ginny insisted they recreate for real before she'd allowed Harry to get dressed again.

But eventually hunger had prevailed. Ginny was now nibbling on a slice of the pizza and Harry picked up a scone he recognized as coming from Mrs. Weasley's kitchen. They ate in companionable silence at first, both realizing just how hungry they were.

"Having sex what? five or six times in a day will usually do that," said Harry dryly.

"Not to mention all the orgasms you gave me that didn't require full penetration," Ginny remarked. She leaned over the table to contemplate the platter of sweets, giving Harry a lovely view down her shirt. He reached out and stroked her breast while she selected a blueberry muffin. She slapped his hand away and raised her eyes at him.

"Have you learned nothing from living with my brother? About coming between a Weasley and a meal?" Ginny took a bite of the muffin, chewed, and swallowed before leaning towards Harry again. "Okay, now you can continue."

Harry moved his hand back down Ginny's t-shirt. "Good thing I never tried to interrupt Ron's eating by feeling him up then," he said.

Ginny snorted. "Speaking of feeling up and orgasms," she began.

Harry chuckled. "If you ever need my attention for any reason, start the conversation with that sentence."

Ginny grinned. "I still owe you a complete blow job, how's that for a sentence?" She looked around the kitchen and then back at Harry. "Can you do that softening charm on the floor here?"

Harry stuffed the last bite of scone into his mouth. "Let me just peel off these pajamas," he said. Their nap had apparently been more than enough of a break; he was already feeling aroused again.

Ginny got up and helped. When Harry was naked from the waist down, she gestured at the kitchen chair. "Sit down again," she ordered. "And if you can't keep your hands to yourself, I'll tie them down."

Harry shivered at Ginny's authoritative tone. They tended to take turns taking charge when it came to sex, and Harry was more than happy to submit to whatever Ginny wanted right now. "I can't play with your hair?" Harry loved to play with Ginny's hair when she went down on him.

Ginny thought for a moment. "As long as you don't try to touch anything else," she allowed. "That means no breast fondling, no shoulder rubbing, no grabbing one of my hands to kiss, nothing that will distract you from fully focusing on what I'm doing to you."

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry contritely. "I'll save the breast fondling for later."

"Damn right you will," said Ginny. "Now sit."

Harry sat.

Instead of kneeling in front of him as Harry had expected, Ginny smirked and pulled her t-shirt over her head, dumping on the ground next to him. Her nipples were already hard, Harry noted. He shuffled in his seat. She pushed off her pajama bottoms next, bending over as she did so that Harry could see that she hadn't bothered to put on on knickers when they'd gotten dressed.

Ginny put her hands on her hips and regarded Harry. He could tell she was trying to maintain an aura of control; he could also tell she was wavering. His penis strained towards her and he watched Ginny watch it, her breathing quickening.

"You could also just straddle me," he said lightly. "I bet that would feel really good too."

Ginny snapped out of the moment. "Do I need to institute a 'no talking' rule too, Potter?" She was using _that tone_ again, and combined with the use of his last name, Harry thought that if she kept talking he might just climax before she got her mouth on him.

"I'll be good," he promised.

Ginny smirked. "So will I," she said. She dropped to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his backside so she could pull him to the edge of the chair. "Remember, no fondling," she said before dipping her head down.

Harry really did his best to comply. Ginny held the base of his penis lightly with one hand while she teased her lips and tongue around his tip and for a while, it was enough for Harry just to watch. When a lock of hair fell into her face and obscured his view, Harry leaned forward and gently tucked it behind Ginny's ear. He couldn't help but keep his hand on the side of her face, telling himself that as long as he was also touching her hair, it wasn't technically breaking the rules. And when he slid his hand down to her cheek to feel the pulsing movement of her mouth and tongue as it enclosed him, well that was pretty close to her hair, wasn't it?" Ginny sucked more intently and Harry groaned. He moved his second hand to Ginny's other cheek. He was barely touching her, but having his hand on her like that while he was inside her mouth rapidly pushed him to the edge.

Ginny changed position, rising up higher on her knees so she could take him in from above. The top of her head rested on Harry's stomach and she pushed against it in rhythm with the movement of her mouth until Harry was rising up to meet her with thrusts of his own.

He knew he was close and knew she didn't care if he warned her or not, but that made him all the more determined to do so.

"Ginny," he gasped, feeling the pressure building in his back and between his legs. "I'm gonna come soon." He didn't expect an answer but it suddenly felt like Ginny's tongue was in a dozen places at once on his skin, swirling, tasting, licking, sucking. She leaned over so far that he could feel her breasts tickling the tops of his thighs and he finally gave in to the need to touch, stroking one lightly while he tried to hold on just a few second more. But then Ginny put her hand on his sac and Harry reached his peak, freezing in place while he climaxed. He moved a hand back to her jaw so he could feel Ginny swallowing; every pulse of her throat sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

Ginny kept sucking and swallowing until Harry started to wonder how she was continuing to breathe, but finally she sat back on her heels, wiping at her mouth and giving him a knowing look. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself." She accepted the cup of water he gave her.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not," Harry responded. He pulled Ginny into his lap. "That was fucking hot."

Ginny blew out a breath. "It really was," she agreed. "When you put your hand on my cheek it just . . ." she shivered. "I liked it. It made me work harder."

Harry smirked. "It made me harder too," he quipped.

Ginny groaned. "That's terrible," she said. She put her head on his shoulder and they sat quietly, listening to the wind outside. Finally Ginny shuffled in Harry's lap. "Hmmm?" he asked.

"D'you want to do a reheating charm on the pizza or should we just finish it cold?"

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"Bill's on his way; he couldn't get his Patronus through to Ginny either." Ron was pacing again, but his face was relieved at the imminent arrival of his oldest brother. "I didn't say anything to my parents though."

"They don't need to know yet," Hermione agreed. "It's been a stressful enough week for them already." She put her arms around Ron. "I'm sure Ginny's fine, she probably just needs her space."

"She's probably going to kill me for treating her like a child," Ron agreed. "But I'm still glad Bill's coming. Hopefully he can get her out of her flat before Harry gets home from training. If we're all going to be together for Christmas, the two of them are going to need to spend some time together first. Otherwise it's just going to be awkward."

"It's going to be awkward no matter what," said Hermione. "We'll just have to work as hard as we can to keep the two of them apart."

"Uh huh," Ron agreed. He sat up. "I think that's Bill."

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"Harry, do you hear something . . . rattling underneath my bed?"

Harry looked up from where he'd been kissing across Ginny's stomach. The post-pizza nap had done wonders for his stamina and he was eager to return Ginny's favor. He shook his head. "I don't hear anything, but then, I was rather preoccupied." He grinned up at her.

Ginny grinned back. "And don't let me stop you," she said. She leaned back again and Harry continued his journey down her body. Ginny opened her legs and Harry settled between them, tickling her with his fingers. "You're already . . . wait." He froze. "Did you hear that?"

Ginny sat up. "I felt it," she said. She grabbed her wand and looked at Harry, eyes wide. "It shook the bed."

Harry had grabbed his wand too, and carefully slipped of the bed. It was a slightly odd feeling to be naked, but he pushed that thought aside, his mind whirling. Was it a Boggart? Ginny's bed had a pleated fabric thing around the bottom and he couldn't see underneath. She slipped down beside him. "I'll say a spell to lift the bedskirt," she said under her breath. "And I'll raise the bed a little bit too. You can contain whatever comes out."

Harry nodded. "On three," he said quietly. "One, two, three." Ginny said the spell to lift the bed and Harry tensed, but nothing happened. He took a tentative step forward, then another. "Lumos," he whispered, poking his wand in the dark space.

He barked a laugh. "It's okay," he said, darting forward.

Ginny started to laugh as she lowered the bed. "I forgot you put it under there," she said.

Harry leaned the poster against the side of the bed. "Me too," he said sheepishly. "Although in my defense, I didn't know the thing could move."

"I didn't either," Ginny said. "I'm sure Fred and George would've mentioned it." She peered at the poster. "What do you think set it off?"

"I think _we_ did," said Harry with a laugh. "How many times have we had sex since I got here?"

Before Ginny could even answer, the poster shook again, and Harry watched with a mixture of shock and amusement at the cause. His photographed image was no longer merely posing for the camera and winking, it was _dancing_, if you could all it that. Moving at least, while the announcer's voice narrated in a sing-song rhyme:

_**After 24 Hours What Do We Know? Potter and Weasley Had A Lot to Show! They Tried Some New Moves, They Have Nothing to Fix, And How Many Times Did They Do It? SIX!**_

Ginny exploded into giggles just as fireworks exploded over photograph-Harry's shoulder. An enormous number 21 shimmered in green, obscuring half the poster. Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Ginny nudged him.

"I think you'd be proud," she said, eyes still twinkling.

"Oh, I'm proud all right," said Harry. He put his arms around Ginny and watched his image shimmy around in a circle as the announcer began again. "And I can't help by wonder what that number would look like if it counted orgasms and not just sex."

Ginny snorted. "It'd be a lot higher," she agreed. She ran her hand down Harry's side. "I'll have to suggest that to my brothers."

Harry gave her a horrified look. "Don't you dare," he said. "They'll want to know where you got the idea!" He shook his head. "I'd been hoping to keep the poster around," he said. "It would be fun to see how high we could get the number to go, but not if we have to worry about it breaking into poetry at random moments. What if your parents were over?" He swallowed. "Or Bill?"

Ginny shrugged and grinned. "I think Bill and Fleur have a poster of their own, don't they? Maybe we can ask him how they turn off the announcement feature when we don't want it."

Harry groaned again. "That would require talking to Bill about our sex life. Please swear an Unbreakable Vow that's never going to happen."

"And who'll we get for a bonder?" she asked with a grin. "One of the twins?"

"Bite your tongue," said Harry. "They know way too much already." He looked sharply at Ginny. "What's wrong?" She was staring at something behind him with a horrified look on her face. Slowly, she raised her arm to point. "I think that Vow would be worthless," she said in a shaky voice. Harry turned around. He'd never seen that particular Patronus before, but he knew immediately who had cast it. The cheetah bared its teeth, revealing fangs that Harry had last seen dangling from an earring worn by Bill Weasley. After a moment, it spoke with her oldest brother's voice.

"Ginny? We know you're upset, but enough is enough. No one's heard from you for over a day, and as impressive as the wards are, it's time to take them down and let us in." The Patronus got silent for a few seconds but didn't fade away. It spoke again, apparently Bill was playing his strongest card. "We don't want to involve mum and dad." The cheetah finally disappeared.

Harry felt like all the air had gone out of his lungs. He knew Ginny hadn't contacted her family; they'd even talked about the fact that she probably should. But she hadn't, and Harry hadn't mentioned it again. "Umm," he said, looking frantically around her flat. There were still two plates and two cups on her kitchen table and the damn poster was sitting right there between them, shining brightly and probably preparing to speak again. Hell, the air practically smelled like sex. Could he hide in the loo anyway? Pray that Ginny could make up some story? Harry turned to Ginny to ask what she thought they should do, other than stand like two statues - two _naked_ statues - when Bill's voice reverberated throughout the flat. Apparently, they'd dallied for too long. "Ginny? We're coming in."

Harry threw himself onto Ginny's bed, scooting over to make room for her to dive in after him. They'd just pulled the covers up to their chins and Harry was contemplating what Bill meant by "we" when there was a small click and Ginny's door swung open. Any other time Harry would have been impressed with the finesse Bill had used to break through the wards - no explosions or destruction of property needed - but at that moment, he was too busy watching and counting as Ginny's flat filled with what seemed like half the people Harry knew. Bill, Fleur, Ron, Hermione, the twins with Angelina and Katie all crowded around Ginny's bed, staring with various expressions of shock, delight, and devious glee. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand under the blanket. She squeezed back and Harry sat up as straight as he could and tried to look nonchalant, as if he'd been absolutely expecting half his girlfriend's family to come barging in. He certainly wasn't going to speak first though.

"I take it that, uhh, Harry got his memory back?" Ron was looking at both of them with a careful expression. "Because there's no way the two of you would . . . "

"No," said Harry. "Definitely not like that." He nodded at Ron, unable to keep the grin completely off his face. "I did. I got my memory back last night." There were murmurs of relief throughout the room.

"But why didn't you . . ." Bill began, only to be interrupted by Hermione. She looked absolutely fascinated, Harry noted with amusement. He settled back, thinking that maybe she'd be able to distract from any of the more difficult questions Ginny's brothers might ask.

His relief was short-lived.

"Did the poster have something to do with your memory returning?" Hermione looked at Fred and George. "What kind of animation spell did you use? It seems to have evolved organically."

"It was a combination of a couple of charms," said Fred. He peered at the poster and then shot a spell from his wand. Harry felt Ginny cringe. "Oh shit," she mumbled. He tensed, waiting for the poster to reveal that he and Ginny had had sex another six times. Although if he had to admit it, a tiny part of Harry - a very tiny part that would probably regret it immediately after - was proud. Six times in one day was worthy of Bill and Fleur. He didn't have any time to gloat to himself before the poster shook again.

_**Bed, Shower, Table, Where Will They Fuck Next? If You Don't All Leave, Someone's Going to Get Hexed!**_

Harry's image finished his dance with a rather obscene gesture and the room exploded. Fred and George gave each other a high-five; they were laughing so hard they were crying. Ron looked like he was trying not to laugh but failing and Bill dropped his head onto Fleur's shoulder. Katie and Angelina were congratulating Ginny.

Hermione was giggling rather uncharacteristically and she was the first one to regain control. "Maybe we should all sit down and talk," she said. Some of the no-nonsense tone had snuck back into her voice, although her mouth kept quirking. "Regardless of the . . . reasons, we should really understand how Harry got his memory back."

"I agree," said Bill. "But I'd prefer that we have this conversation without Harry and my baby sister talking to us from bed." He gestured towards the other half of the flat. "Can we all sit down over there?" He looked expectantly at Harry and Ginny.

"Umm, yeah," said Ginny. She was rather pink but squeezed Harry's hand again in reassurance. "We just need to uhh, putsomeclothesonfirst." She looked at Harry. "Where are they?"

"Still under the table," he muttered back, picking up his wand. He said the Accio as quietly as he could but it was completely obvious to everyone in the room what was going on. Harry had thought things couldn't get any more embarrassing than the two of them getting dressed under the blankets of Ginny's bed while her family looked on, but that was before he finally climbed out of bed and stood in front of everyone. The fitted pajama bottoms he'd conjured had been fine when he was wearing them to arouse Ginny but now he was acutely aware of the fact that everyone could probably tell he wasn't wearing pants underneath them. And the decoration . . .

"Holy shit, Harry, those pajamas are brilliant!" George actually bent down to look at the stick figure Harry and Ginny having sex on Harry's thigh. "You got your scar there any everything, how did you do that?" He looked up at Fred. "I'm sensing a new product line."

Fred crouched down too. "And none of the couples are using exactly the same position," he said, looking up at Harry with admiration. "Tricky."

"Uhh, thanks," he mumbled.

"Are these all positions you 'ave used together?" Fleur had broken away from Bill and was now examining the image on Harry's bum. "Because 'zis one 'ere, 'ze Pretzel Dip? Ahh, one of my favorites. It allows for eye contact and deeper . . ."

". . . Okay, Harry and Ginny don't need to know that." Bill hurriedly pulled Fluer away from Harry and his pajama bottoms, very obviously not looking at them himself.

"We've already mastered that one anyway, Bill." Ginny smirked at her brother as she climbed out of bed. Harry was relieved to see that her pajamas were just ordinary pink with white flowers on them. Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and he leaned into her. "Going on the offense?" he said under his breath. "Because it might be all fun now, but when Bill curses my bits to shrivel up later you might regret bragging."

Ginny snorted quietly. "Last year I figured out how to adjust my Bat-Bogey Hex to a different part of a bloke's anatomy," she said. "Bill won't be cursing anything if he knows what's good for him."

"I'm really glad I'm not on your bad side," Harry mumbled against Ginny's hair. Everyone settled in, Ginny taking the stuffed oversized chair that was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the room. She scooted over to make room for Harry and he was struck with the memory of the first time he'd tried to share with her, when he and the rest of the Arrows had come drinking in Ginny's flat. He was still smiling as he sat down and Ginny promptly put her legs over his lap.

"What's funny?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I'm just glad you're sharing this seat with me now." He lowered his voice. "I want to do things here other than just sit when everyone's gone."

Ginny shivered. "We can kick them out now; they know I'm okay."

"Heh," responded Harry. "And deny Hermione the chance to ask a million questions?"

Fred and George had nearly as many questions as Hermione, it turned out. While Hermione and Bill were interested in the precise magical reasons that the poster was able to jog Harry's memory so completely, the twins were fascinated with the business prospects from both an expanded line of posters as well as what they were already calling their 'sexy sleepwear' line. Angelina and Katie were making a list of just what they'd like in a pair of pajamas and Fleur drifted over to talk to them about sexual positions and whether it would be possible to charm the bottoms to contort the wearer into the correct shape on their own. That just left Ron looking rather sheepishly at Harry and Ginny.

"I'm sorry about all this," he said to Ginny, gesturing to the room. "I should have trusted that you could take care of yourself." He smirked. "Although I'm kind of glad that I didn't know that you weren't exactly taking care _of yourself._" Ron seemed to realize what he'd just said and turned bright red while Harry and Ginny laughed at him. He looked around.

"But where did the coffee go?" he asked. "I sent you a cup with a note yesterday and it floated outside your door because it couldn't get through the wards. But later they were gone and I figured you'd respond to me then."

"Probably still stuck inside the wards," said Ginny. She waved her wand and a mug of coffee, a piece of parchment, and three of Ron's terrier Patronuses whooshed into the room. "It wouldn't be very secure if things just sat in plain view outside a warded area, would it?"

"Nice one, Ginny," Bill called from across the room. "It took me over five minutes to figure out what exactly you'd done, and another five to break through."

Harry and saw the small smile play about GInny's lips and he knew she was pleased with her brother's praise. She shrugged. "I _have_ learned a few things over the years," she said lightly.

"More than a few, I'd say," called George. He and Fred had the poster propped against the coffee table and were shooting various spells at it. So far, it hadn't said anything Harry hadn't heard before, and after accepting the laughing admiration for _SIX_, he started to relax and think about how much longer it was going to take to get everyone out of Ginny's flat again. For there was no question that they were all going to leave and he was going to stay. He'd send Dam a message planning to meet him at the stadium to train, and he knew he'd be expected to play in the team's final four matches before Christmas, but until then, he intended to spend every moment with Ginny.

She seemed to have the same idea. Ginny's legs moved restlessly across his and by the third time her wiggling caused her thigh to "accidentally" brush against his waist Harry grabbed her leg and held it there. She looked at him with a smirk and Harry stared back, suddenly not caring at all about their company. Ginny licked her lips and Harry leaned in, cupping the back of her neck to pull her closer until he was able to pull her all the way into his lap.

_**And Potter Wants to Catch the Snitch Again! Does He Mind An Audience? **_

Harry started to break his kiss with Ginny but she grabbed him and pulled him back to her. "Let them watch," she said quietly. "I bet they won't be here long."

Indeed, there was suddenly a lot of throat-clearing and rustling and comments that _we really need to get home_ from around the room. Harry looked up and caught Ron's eye, and then Hermione's. "Thank you both," he said fervently. "For not letting me make a total bollocks of things when I was, you know."

"We would have kept fighting for you too, mate," Ron said. He looked at Ginny. "You know that, right?"

Ginny nodded solemnly. "I do," she said. She turned to the rest of her brothers.

"Fred, George, I can't believe I'm saying this, but . . . thank you. If it wasn't for your brilliant inventing I don't know what would have happened with Harry's memory."

"Thank you," Fred responded. He held up the poster. "We'll leave this here for now but damn, it's going to make us a fortune." He and George gave each other another high-five.

"And Bill, thank you," Ginny said.

Bill looked confused. "For what?"

"For not treating me like a kid who isn't old enough to have a boyfriend," said Ginny. Bill sighed.

"It's not easy, I'll admit," he said. "But I'm happy for you both." He put his arm around Fleur. "And I think I have to get a pair of those pajamas."

Everyone left quickly after that ,and if the wards Ginny put up weren't quite as strong as the ones from before, they were close. After she put down her wand she turned to straddle Harry's lap. "I think we don't need to worry about any more interruptions," she said, bending down to kiss him. "When do you have to be back with the team?"

"Day after tomorrow," Harry said. He lifted his hips and Ginny nestled more snugly into his erection. "And I intend to make sure we cover every position on these pajamas before then."


	43. Reversing Course

"Let's get drunk."

Ginny looked at Harry, amused. "What?" They were out of bed again, this time eating pancakes and eggs they'd made together.

Harry gave her an earnest look. "You've snogged Dam drunk. I've snogged . . . well, you know, drunk. But every time you and I've been at a pub together, we had a reason to stay mostly sober." He shrugged. "I want to get drunk and snog my girlfriend in her flat."

Ginny could find only a little fault with Harry's logic. "You mean, you want to get drunk and shag your girlfriend," she corrected.

Harry didn't even blush. "Well, yeah," he said. "But only if you do too," he added quickly.

Ginny grinned. "It's probably the only way we can make sure we won't make fools of ourselves and end up in the Prophet," she said.

"I already made a fool of myself today," said Harry dryly. "I'm still not convinced your brothers aren't going to name their new sleepwear line 'Potter Pajamas'".

Ginny laughed. "Or Ginny's Jammies?" She got up from the table and went to sit in Harry's lap. "For witches."

"I think your brothers are trying very hard to pretend you're still a virgin, all evidence to the contrary," said Harry. He kissed her neck and his hands wandered lower. "So, are you in? I'll go out and get some really good Firewhiskey if you want to make sure we have enough hangover potion - not that I think we'll drink nearly as much as we did our last times."

"I think I'll need to go to the Apothecary then," said Ginny. "The shopkeeper is going to wonder what I've been getting up to; this is the fourth time I've bought hangover potion in as many months."

Harry snorted. "He probably sees people buying that much in a couple of weeks," he said. He kissed her lightly on the nose. "Meet back here in about 20?"

It took them a few extra minutes to leave; it took Harry two tries to transfigure his sexy pajamas back into a respectable shirt and trousers, and then both him and Ginny working together to get the wrinkles out of them.

"I'm never ignoring my mum again when she offers to teach me household spells," Ginny grumbled. "Even though I know she'll say she told me so."

"She's told us all so," laughed Harry. "And I'm not sure anyone has listened yet."

"It would make her happy to know I wanted to learn," said Ginny. "As long as all my brothers don't expect me to become their flat cleaner or wash witch."

Harry put his arms around her. "Actually, I seem to remember that I was your wash wizard."

Ginny swatted at him. "Prat. You had to remind me of that, didn't you?"

Harry nodded against her hair. "Yep," he said in a self-satisfied voice. "And I'll keep reminding you, because it amuses me."

Ginny turned in his arms. "I can think of a couple of other things that would amuse you that won't be happening if you keep teasing me." She lifted up on her toes as if to kiss him, but as soon as Harry leaned in, she slipped out of his arms and backed away, laughing.

"You're punishing yourself as much as me that way, you know," said Harry.

Ginny sighed. "Good point," she said. She held out her hand "Truce?"

Harry took her hand and pulled her to him for a kiss. "Always."

HPHPHP

But when Harry returned from Lucky Libations with a bottle of expensive Firewhiskey, it was to find an owl waiting for him. How Kingsley Shacklebolt had known where Harry had been and where he'd be returning was something he'd have to investigate further at some point. For now, he read the note attached to the owl's leg with a sigh. The Fireplace flared green.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, stepping neatly out. How she didn't end up dizzy and covered with soot like Harry did every time he used the Floo was another talent he would have to investigate.

He pointed to the owl. "We've been summoned to the Ministry," he said.

Ginny looked at him critically. "You'll need to put some cleaner clothes on then. Even transfigured back, those trousers just scream sex."

Ten minutes later, both of them were in properly prudish clothing and headed for the lift when the door to Dam's flat opened.

"Oho, Harry, I was looking for you," he said, jogging catch up. "What _have_ you and Ginny been up to?"

"Oh, umm . . ." stammered Harry. He realized he didn't know exactly what Dam had been told about the events of the past week, other than that he'd not been told about Harry's memory loss. He shuffled against Ginny, hoping she'd be able to shed some light on the situation - despite having been unconscious longer - when Dam barked a laugh.

"You don't have to answer that, I can imagine for myself, can't I? Nursing each other back to health from that Doxy flu." Dam somehow managed to make an illness that Harry had heard was quite retched sound positively sexy. The man raised his eyebrows. "And then when you were both feeling better . . . ?"

"Yeah, something like that," said Harry with a laugh. "I'm just glad we're both back to full health now." He paused again.

Dam didn't notice. He nodded. "And that the Dark Wizard who infected you both with the potion to get you sick has been caught." He shuddered and looked at Ginny. "They're sure they caught him and no one else was helping him?" They'd reached the lobby and Dam looked nervously towards the front entrance through which a couple of folding chairs could be seen on the sidewalk.

Ginny nodded. "Definitely," she said. "He was a nasty piece of work and we're sure - the Aurors are - that he acted alone." She glanced where Dam was looking. "And umm, not related to those fan-witches who've been trying to break into the building. That was all just a lark. I think they uhh, had a competition to see who could get mentioned in the paper the most."

Harry had to hand it to Ginny for coming up with that story. He knew Dam really enjoyed being able to flirt with his fans and that the events of the past months had made him a lot warier about it.

Dam's face relaxed more. "That's good to know," he said. He looked outside again. "Actually, that's very good to know." He looked at Harry. "Will you show me how to set a good warming charm later? Some of those fan witches must be getting cold, sitting out there for so long."

Harry grinned. "I will," he promised. "But right now Ginny I are on our way to the Ministry to answer a few more questions about that Dark Wizard." Of course, strictly speaking, Shepard Kane wasn't "Dark", but that was really a distinction without a difference at this point. Grindelwald had acted for what he thought was 'The Greater Good' too.

Dam nodded knowingly. "Good job then," he said. "And you'll be back at the stadium tomorrow for training? What did the Healer say? Will you be up to play in our last run of matches before Christmas?"

Harry nodded. "I'm cleared for full training and will be ready for the first game." He looked at Ginny. "Umm, how many of them are away?"

Dam laughed. "Two out of the four," he said, cuffing Harry on the arm. "But I'll make sure you get a single room, as long as the Aurors don't keep Ginny here working too late."

"I'll make sure they don't, if you're saying what I think you are," said Ginny.

Dam held up his hands. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "A player's hotel room is off limits to anyone not connected to the team, and there are wards to make sure no one unapproved gets inside." He gave the each a significant look. "Of course, these wards weren't set by anyone nearly as good as Bill Weasley. I'm sure a decent Auror could break through if needed. For Auror business, I mean."

Ginny nodded seriously. "Especially if that Auror is somehow connectedto the team, you said. Or at least _connected_ to one of the players." Harry groaned under his breath.

Dam gave Ginny a high-five. "Connected . . . to another player," he said with a smirk. "That's right. But you didn't hear it from me."

Harry and Ginny left Dam to examine the witches camping out in the cold while they Apparated from the back of the building to the Ministry. As they walked inside, Ginny took Harry's hand and he looked at her.

"I don't care who knows," she said firmly. And then, in a quieter voice, "Do you think Kane is here?"

Harry realized Ginny's hand was shaking in his, her bravado wavering. She looked towards the lifts and took a deep breath. He stopped them both, turning her so she was facing him. "You haven't been here since everything happened," he realized.

"But you haven't either," she pointed out. "And you're much calmer." She shook her head. "It shouldn't bother me."

Harry shook his head. "But it should," he said. "This was someone you worked with, someone you trusted. And he hurt you." He put both hands on Ginny's shoulders. "I felt the same way, when I first realized what Kane wanted to do. So betrayed. If he hadn't taken my memories, if he'd left me to just quit the Aurors and try to figure things out for myself, I don't know what I would have done."

Ginny moved closer to Harry and put her arms around his waist, giving him a fierce look that said she didn't care that they were standing in the middle of the Ministry's Atrium. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "You'd have gone straight to Kingsley," she said. "And Kane would be in Azkeban already. You would have made sure of that."

"Just like you did," Harry pointed out. "Just like you still are." He tightened his arms around Ginny. "That's why we're here, to help finish this, and we're going to. And I promise, if we see Kane, I'll race you to see who gets the chance to hex him first."

Ginny chuckled in his arms and Harry could tell that some of the tension had left her body. "And then we can go back home and open up the Firewhiskey," she said decisively. "And you'll transfigure some more pajamas." Her voice grew a little sly. "I was thinking about some with Quaffles all over them, and one Snitch, and you'd have to figure out how to catch it."

Harry breathed out. "That sounds brilliant," he agreed.

HPHPHPHP

In the end, the meeting with the Aurors was rather more anti-climatic than they'd expected. Kingsley and Robards and Camilla Stalk were there, but Kane was not; he was already locked away, having confessed to enough that a trial would not be necessary. Instead, a diminutive Ministry recording witch took down their answers to a number of questions that would be used for sentencing later on. Reliving what he remembered and what he'd forgotten wasn't as bad as Harry had thought. Next to him, Ginny was calm and focused as she answered her questions, and the indisputable evidence that she was okay was all Harry really needed to know.

Afterwards, Robards made a point to tell Ginny that she could take as much time off from training as she needed, and that she was welcome back whenever she was ready. He'd make sure that no one gave her a hard time about her experiences. Ginny thanked the head Auror and shook his hand.

"I'd like to come back as soon as possible, and I think I should tell the other trainees about what happened. There are a lot of important lessons to be learned."

"I'd like to speak to everyone too," Harry broke in. "If you want me, of course. I'll just have to work around my game schedule." Ginny gave him a smile.

"Ron and Hermione too," she agreed. "They were quite brilliant themselves."

Robards nodded solemnly. "It's probably something we should share with the entire Auror corps," he said. Not just the trainees," he said. "Camilla and I will work out a plan for that."

Harry and Ginny left the Ministry soon afterwards. His mind was already on what they were going to do when they got back to Ginny's flat, and by the way her steps quickened as they approached the Apparition point, he knew Ginny was thinking about it too. He tugged on her hand, pulling her in through the back door of their building, and she giggled and slipped her hand up the back of his shirt, brushing her fingers across his skin.

"Eager there, are we?" she teased.

Harry stopped and gave her a serious look. "Not at all," he said calmly. He dramatically slowed his pace. "I am _perfectly_ happy to take my time. We could even finish cleaning my flat, if you wanted, since I never quite got that done."

Ginny nodded back. "Maybe you should finish cleaning," she said. "And I'll just pop over to my mum and dad's for a visit. I haven't seen them in a few days, you know." Her eyes twinkled.

It occurred to Harry that in fact, they did need to visit Ginny's parents at some point soon; he assumed they already knew about the developments with Harry's memory - he could only hope it had been Bill or Ron who'd told them and not the twins - but he knew they'd want to hear it again from Harry and Ginny in person. He'd suggest that, after . . . other things.

No sooner were they in the lift that Ginny wrapped herself around Harry, kissing him so thoroughly that he was forced to take several steps backwards. His back met the wall, which gave him enough leverage to slip his hands under Ginny's bum and raise her up the few inches he needed for maximum contact. She made a low groan of pleasure in her throat and Harry wondered briefly if they dared just stay in the lift.

His lips were still on Ginny's neck when the doors slid open.

"Bloody hell, couldn't you two wait another two minutes?" Ron sounded equally amused and annoyed.

Harry finished kissing Ginny before looking at his friend. "Apparently not," he said cheekily. Ginny laughed as Harry lowered her to the ground and he suspected it wasn't an accident when she stumbled against his chest.

Ron shrugged, nonplussed. "Doesn't matter anyway," he said. "You're both coming to the Burrow, right?"

"That's today?" Harry didn't think he was imagining the slight disappointment in Ginny's voice. He looked at her. "We're expected at the Burrow?"

Ginny nodded. "My mum sent a Patronus; you must have been in the loo?" It was a good assumption, the two of them hadn't been apart for any other reason. "I completely forgot."

"Probably a good idea to see them anyway," Harry said. He looked at Ron and Hermione "Can you wait just a minute? I have some good Firewhiskey in Ginny's flat I think everyone will enjoy." Next to him, Ginny snorted quietly.

"Need liquid courage to see my family, Potter?" she asked.

Harry kissed her. "Probably, if they're all there," he said. "Depending on what sort of model sexual organs the twins decide to unveil over pudding."

"In that case, bring two bottles," said Ron.

HPHPHPHP

In truth, Ginny was rather excited to be back at the Burrow with Harry. Last time they'd been there they'd been sneaking around and had had sex on the ladder up to the attic. This time, she suspected that the relief everyone felt would result in rather more leniency than usual if she and Harry tried to slip away.

As they walked down the lane to the Burrow, Ginny contemplated the fact that she just felt _happy_.The past few days had been marked by relief, amazement, guilt, anger, more relief, all coalescing into the physical need they'd both been desperate to slake. There had been no doubt in Ginny's mind that Harry had come back as completely hers as he was before Kane's potion, but until this moment, heading towards her childhood home and her family, there had been too many emotions to focus on the simple joy of it all. She squeezed Harry's hand.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

"That's it," said Ginny. "Just that we have the obvious."

Harry looked unaccountably pleased. "Good," he said.

The Burrow itself seemed imbued with good cheer, even before Harry's bottles of Firewhiskey were joined on the table with several others. No one said much about Kane, or St. Mungo's or memory loss, or even that they were happy to see Ginny and Harry back to normal. Ginny was at first surprised and grateful at the normalcy, and then realized that she shouldn't have been so surprised at all. The one thing she'd learned - painful as though the lesson may have been at times - was that her family was Harry's too, and that sometimes no explanations were necessary. This was one of those times, and everyone understood. It was just easy to be there.

Molly left the dishes to wash themselves and the leftovers to arrange themselves in baskets to send home with various children before joining them all back at the table, toting a bottle of her own. There were cheers all around when she plopped it on the table in front of her.

"I knew you had one hidden somewhere," said Ron indignantly.

"We all knew she had one hidden," laughed Bill. "But even I was never able to figure out where."

"Your mother knew it would have been gone in a trice," said Arthur. "It's what we always used to drink when we finally had a moment alone when you lot were younger, so not very often." His eyes twinkled. "Remember our rule about hangover potion before you get started now."

Everyone groaned. Ginny turned to explain to Harry that her parents kept no hangover potion in the house - it had been their way to keep the children from drinking when they were younger - and realized she didn't have to. He'd heard the lecture as much as Ron and the others over the years. He leaned in close to her.

"Try to stick with what I brought," he said. "It's a lot smoother than Ogden's." Harry's eyes were bright and Ginny felt a thrill of anticipation. They'd already agreed to get drunk together; now it looked as though they'd be getting drunk together at the Burrow with her entire family instead of alone in her flat. Somehow that thought was even more arousing.

HPHPHP

An hour later Ginny was more than a little buzzed. Everyone had moved to the sitting room after dinner, and now she was draped over Harry in the big comfy chair that was the twin to the one at her flat. It had the advantage of being pushed back in a corner of the room, so she didn't think it was quite so obvious to everyone else that Harry had one hand up her shirt. Or maybe it was obvious, but she just didn't really care. Ron and Hermione were practically snogging on the sofa and Bill had conjured some sort of mist around him and Fleur so no one could see exactly what they were doing, which was probably a very good thing. The twins, Angelina, Katie, Percy, and his new girlfriend Audrey were all still sitting on the floor in a circle, passing around the second of Harry's bottles. Her parents had disappeared, which made Ginny both happy for them and rather horrified. She grabbed her glass out of the air where it was floating gently, thanks to Harry's levitation spell.

"Cheers," she said in a loud whisper. "Here's to snogging." She leaned over and gave Harry a kiss.

He laughed and grabbed his own glass. "You already toasted snogging, pick something else we can do." His hand moved lower. "How about . . . stroking?" His fingers moved against the waistband of her jeans. He took a big drink and smoke came out of his ears.

Ginny lost her train of thought for a moment. "Uhh, stroking . . . stroking's good," she managed. Her entire body felt warm and tingly. "And . . . grasping, that's good too." Without thinking too much about it, she unzipped Harry's trousers and slipped her hand inside.

He gave a start of surprise. "Ohh, that feels . . . oh." Ginny saw Harry's eyes dart around the room and then land back the place her hand disappeared into his trousers. "That feels really good," he mumbled. He touched her jaw and turned her to face him. "I want to touch you too," he said quietly. "I want to . . . I mean, I need you. Just you."

Ginny got lost in Harry's voice, and feel of his breath against her cheek. They stared at each other for a long moment. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, or his nearness, or the absolute comfort of being at the Burrow together, but suddenly she didn't care at all who else was in the room; she was barely aware of them as she leaned forward and kissed Harry deeply, her hand still moving slowly against him. He made a low sound in his throat.

"I could try to make one of Bill's foggy things," he said when they finally broke apart. He looked across the room to where the couple was still completely obscured by heavy mist. His hand was slowly stroking up and down her back and Ginny knew Harry didn't want to fumble with figuring out the proper spell and how to maneuver on the chair any more than she did. Hermione and Ron were still on the sofa and the couples on the floor seemed to have paired off and scattered, only Percy and his girlfriend were still sitting there, holding hands and talking quietly. Ginny thought about warming charms in the orchard or garden, or even of simply Apparating back to her flat. Instead, she gave Harry a final soft squeeze and withdrew her hand, zipping him back up.

"I want to go to my room," she said. She hadn't underestimated the effect those words would have; Harry blinked at her for a moment, and then she could feel the physical reaction of his body as her meaning penetrated. His hands tensed on her and he shivered before giving her a jerky nod. "Yes please," he said thickly.

They took their whiskey with them. Harry waved his wand at one of the bottles as they walked past and their cups filled with the amber-colored liquid. Of course it didn't spill, which made Ginny giggle. "You still need to teach me how you do that that spell so well," she said. Harry just chuckled, putting his hand on the small of her back. At the staircase, he stopped, looking suddenly shy.

"Uhh, after you," he said.

She gave him a teasing smile. "Don't you know where my room is?" For some reason, Harry blushed.

"Well, yeah, of course I do," he said. Still he waited for her to start up the stairs first.

Ginny looked at him curiously but started to walk. "Then what?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to make sure he was following. "Do you have to stop at the loo or something?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that." He stopped. "Actually yeah, I do have to go to the loo, but that's not the reason." They'd reached the landing. The door to Ginny's childhood bedroom was right in front of them, closed. "I've never been inside before," said Harry. "In your room I mean."

Ginny nodded. "I know. But you've been in my flat, in my bed. This is more or less the same thing." Harry seemed sweetly nervous, and Ginny suspected she knew the reason. She touched his arm. "But it's not exactly the same, is it?"

Harry shook his head. "I always wondered what it looked like inside," he said softly. "Before. When I didn't . . . or when I had . . . when I fancied you, all those years." He gave her a sheepish smile. "And every time I'd walk up the stairs to Ron's or to the loo, and I'd pass your room, I'd think about . . . things. About you inside, and what you might be wearing, or doing, or thinking." He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping even further. "And sometimes I'd imagine . . . if I were to knock on your door, you'd let me in. And we wouldn't be . . . I mean, we might . . . do things. Even though in real life we didn't . . . you know."

Ginny shivered. "I do know," she said. She turned and opened her door then reached up and took the cups of Firewhiskey out of the air. "Go up and use the loo," she ordered. "And when you're done, come back down here. And knock."

Harry blew out a breath. "Okay," he said. He shuffled for a moment, and adjusted himself. "Yeah. I'll umm, I'll knock." He leaned forward as if to give Ginny a kiss and then pulled back. "I don't know if I should, umm . . ." He shook his head and rocked back and forth on his feet. Ginny gave him a slight push towards the stairs.

"Go, Harry," she said, trying to let a bit of her old irritation creep back into her voice. "Or I'll have to hex you."

Harry gave her his old cheeky grin. "Right. Don't want that." He reached out and ruffled her hair. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Ginny." For a moment when he touched her, his character wavered; he rested his hand against her hair a beat longer than necessary. Then he nodded to himself and the gleam returned to his eye. "I'll try not to be too loud coming back down the stairs; I wouldn't want bother you." Without waiting for a reply, he spun around towards the stairs.

Ginny watched him go. "Prat," she called after him. He chuckled softly but did not look back. Ginny quickly walked into her room and closed the door.

HPHPHPHP

Harry used the loo quickly and tried to control his breathing; usually when he'd gotten this aroused at the Burrow, he'd take the time in this very room for a wank. Now he just had to figure out how to get back downstairs and into the safety of Ginny's bedroom without anyone else seeing the bulge in his trousers. He suddenly felt 16 again, waiting for one of the twins or whomever to get out of the shower so that he could get in and take care of the fact that Ginny had knocked against his hip or leaned over him at the table or rolled her eyes before chasing him out to the broomshed, or any of another dozen interactions that caused heat to rise in his face and elsewhere. He didn't think any of the Weasleys had realized it at the time; there was no way he'd have been able to avoid the joking or jabs if they had. But now he just hoped that the rest of the family was distracted enough with both alcohol and another warm body to be busily engaged somewhere other than on the stairway between the bathroom and Ginny's bedroom. For good measure, Harry sent a detection spell in that direction, and only when it came up empty did he dare leave the loo.

A single glass of whiskey was floating outside Ginny's door. He took a deep breath and then a large sip, letting the steam dissipate before knocking. "Oi, Ginny, are you in there?" he called.

The door jerked open and Harry's breath hitched. Ginny's hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing an old, stretched-out Harpies t-shirt that reached nearly to her knees. He remembered it from earlier visits to the Burrow, and he also remembered when she'd stopped wearing it, after he'd accidentally walked in on Molly telling her daughter that "maybe that particular top should be reserved for more private moments." He still remembered the horrified look on Ginny's face when she realized Harry had overheard the lecture; she hadn't spoken to him the rest of the day. For his part, Harry'd had to escape to the Burrow's loo not once but twice to try to get the image of Ginny's barely-covered breasts out of his mind.

Indeed, this time Harry didn't need to use his imagination to know exactly what GInny's nipples were doing behind the thin fabric. But before he could consider it any more, she gave a huff of annoyance.

"What do you want, Harry? I was getting ready for bed when you interrupted me." Ginny's voice was so familiarly irritated that Harry almost took a step back. She crossed her arms across her chest and glared. "Well?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Can't a bloke come say goodnight?" he asked, the annoyance in his tone matching hers. "Honestly, you complain all the time that Ron and I don't include you enough, and now I try to do something nice and you act like you're ready to hex off my bits." He crossed his arms, copying her stance.

Ginny appraised him cooly, her gaze sliding down below his waist. "As if I could even find your bits," she muttered. She took a step back. "Fine, come say goodnight, if you must. Just . . . close the door behind you. I don't want Ron barging in to interrupt and dragging you up to his room for a secret meeting or something." Her voice wavered for a moment.

Harry grabbed the floating glass and followed Ginny into her room, carefully shutting the door behind him but making no move to either seal or silence it. "If the thought of having me here is so repugnant, maybe you should keep drinking," he said roughly. His eyes darted around the small space, taking in the posters on the walls, the small desk tucked under a window overlooking the garden, the wardrobe. He didn't dare look at the bed.

Ginny took a long drink and then let the cup float away again. "Not repugnant," she said, her voice quite steady despite the gulp of whiskey. "More like . . . aggravating." She took a step closer.

He raised his eyebrows. "If I'm aggravating, then you're exasperating," he said, taking his own step forward. "I mean really," he continued, keeping his voice measured and conversational. "Didn't your mum tell you not to wear that shirt except for . . . private activities?" He couldn't quite keep the stutter out of his voice. Ginny licked her lips.

"You're infuriating, Potter," she said. "I didn't ask you down here. But here you are anyway, and now you're telling me that my clothing is not appropriate?" She put her hands on her hips. "What if I was about to engage in a _private activity_ of my own, and you just interrupted me? That's certainly not my fault." She huffed and sat down on her bed, immediately scooting back to lean against the pillows. Her shirt rode up past her thighs and Harry could see that she wasn't wearing any knickers. Ginny gave him a smirk.

"Well, you've said your goodnight," she said. Her hand drifted down between her legs. "Are you just going to stand there and watch or are you going up to bed?"

In response, Harry shot several spells at the door. "Oh, I'm watching," he said. He pulled over Ginny's desk chair and sat down, stretching and threading his hands together behind his head. "Don't let me interrupt anything."

"Well . . . fine. Watch then," Ginny said heavily. Her fingers swirled and dipped. "I don't care." She wiggled her bum into the mattress and closed her eyes. "Just don't bother me." She bent her knees and let them fall open a little wider. Harry could see everything she was doing; hell, she'd even taught him what she liked best and now he could identify every touch, dip, and thrust of her fingers against her skin. He even recognized which movement caused her to make certain sounds. He swallowed and shuffled on the chair.

"Taking notes there, Harry?" Ginny sounded a little breathless, but managed to maintain the snark in her tone. "Maybe one day you'll be lucky enough to find a witch who'll agree to let you do this to her."

"And maybe you'll find yourself a wizard," Harry shot back easily, pleased with the steadiness in his voice. It was no good, though; one more dip of Ginny's fingers, one more groan, and he was no longer able to keep his hands resting casually behind his head. He gripped himself through his clothing at first but by the time Ginny bucked her hips Harry was already undoing his trousers and pushing them off onto the floor. His shirt and pants followed and he grasped himself, stroking in time to the movements of Ginny's fingers. Her breathing sped up and she lifted her hips off the bed as she thrust, making a soft sound as she did.

Harry tried to keep from making any noise of his own, but when Ginny mumbled something that sounded a lot like his name he couldn't stop himself from speaking up.

"What was that Ginny? Did you just say my name? Why would you be thinking of me right now?" Harry forced his voice to tease but he knew Ginny could hear how breathless he was.

Her eyes flew open. "Didn't I tell you not to . . . ohhh." Ginny's admonition died in her throat as she took Harry in from head to toe, stopping for the longest time at the place where his hands held his erection, jutting out at her. She took a deep breath.

"I bet you aren't having trouble finding my bits now, are you?" Harry continued. He stood up from the chair and walked to stand over Ginny. "Do you still want to hex them?"

Ginny stared at him a long moment and then abruptly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed so her face was at his waist. "I suppose I'll have to do something else to get you to shut up, won't I?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer she leaned forward and took him in her mouth, putting her hands on his bum to pull him closer.

Harry tried to respond in kind. "Seems like that's actually how I get you to stop . . . oh fuck, right there." His hips bucked and he put his hands on Ginny's head. She sucked harder, pushing her tongue against the underside of his penis and Harry' s knees almost buckled. "Ginny . . ." he groaned. This time, there was no irritation at all in his tone. Ginny pulled her mouth away and looked up at him. The silence stretched.

"I _need_ you, Harry." She grabbed his hands and pulled him down to the bed. Harry stared at her a long moment, feeling as the atmosphere in the room changed. The quilt on Ginny's bed was embroidered with yellow and white flowers and it looked exactly like Harry had imagined it would when he used to fantasize about being here. He smelled Ginny's shampoo and Firewhiskey and the muskiness of her sex and for a moment Harry was so overcome that he had to close his eyes.

"I love you so much," he whispered. Wordlessly, Ginny lay back down and Harry balanced himself above her on his elbows. He entered slowly and deliberately, sliding his body along hers until they were lying pressed together, face to face. Harry ignored the urge to thrust, instead dipping his head down for a kiss. It started softly but then Ginny hummed and opened her mouth and he let himself get lost. His tongue tangled with hers and then drifted along her jaw, up to her temple, and back to her lips. He'd started moving, he realized several minutes later, or maybe it had been longer, but time didn't matter. Ginny raised her hips to meet him and moved her hands restlessly on his back. She was mumbling again, and he heard her say his name with so much love and desire that he almost came undone right then. Instead he dropped his head down to Ginny's shoulder, his breath ragged against her skin.

"Come for me," he gasped, moving his hand down between them. "Let yourself go."

"Only if . . . you come with me," Ginny responded. Her eyes found his.

"Anywhere," he agreed. He felt pressure building. "I'll come anywhere with you."

HPHPHPHP

Epilogue

Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself with the cake, a masterpiece of pink and silver flowers and hearts and stars that twinkled and spun. One-year-old Victoire sat in her mother's lap, entranced with the attention while around her the family ooh'ed and ahh'ed and clapped. Harry slung an arm around Ginny's shoulder and pulled her chair closer to his so that he could kiss the side of her face. She leaned against him and threaded her fingers through his. He could feel her contentment.

"All right, then?" he asked her in an undertone.

She nodded against his chest. "I'm sure," she said. "As sure as you were."

Harry kissed her again. "I know. I think it's absolutely right."

"Oi, Harry, you're on the cover again? When is this story going to be old news already?"

Fred was waving the latest cover of Witch Weekly, the front of which was adorned with Harry's image, grinning rather sheepishly as his Arrow's uniform morphed into a set of Auror's robes and then back again. _It's Official! _screamed the headline.

Harry shrugged. "Hopefully this is the last one, now that it's all done," he said. He took a drink of pumpkin juice. "But Zoya Bellows did a good job with the article; she was really able to capture the reasons it was time for me to leave professional Quidditch and go back to the Aurors. I love to fly, but I love chasing Dark Wizards even more." He squeezed the arm around Ginny. "Time to leave the League to newer and better players, I think. And don't worry, I suspect that by next week, Dam'll be on the cover. He's finally dating our publicist exclusively, you know."

As the assembled guests devolved into discussion about this development, Molly gave Harry a fond smile. "I've never seen you happier," she said. "But I'll admit, I will miss seeing your poster in the kitchen. It was nice having a familiar face flying back and forth."

Harry looked at Ginny, his eyes searching. After a moment, she nodded.

"Actually mum, I think that another familiar Quidditch face can be arranged." Ginny had raised her voice above the general din, and everyone slowly quieted.

"What's that, dear?" asked Molly. She pulled her eyes fully away from her granddaughter and the mess she was making with the frosting and looked at Ginny.

Ginny took a deep breath. "I'm umm, I wanted to let you all know that I'm . . . I'm leaving the Aurors. Well, partly leaving." Harry moved his hand down to squeeze her thigh in support. "I'm going to play for the Holyhead Harpies. As a Chaser."

Voices around the table exploded. Ginny let them wash over her and didn't even try to respond until Harry shot his wand into the air. Instantly, there was silence. "Why don't we let Ginny explain?" he said. His voice made it obvious that he already knew what was going on.

Ginny nodded. "I don't know if you know it, but I had a tryout with the Harpies over two years ago. She wanted me to come play Chaser for her then." She looked around the table at her family. "But I wanted to be an Auror."

"And they hired that Adoria Box instead," broke in Ron. He shook his head. "And look how that turned out?"

George smirked. "I heard the only team looking at her now is the Canons," he said. "Wonder what she'll look like in Orange?"

While Ron sent his spoon flying across the table at his brother, Bill leaned forward. "Continue, Ginny," he said, "because I'm not sure how much longer mum will be able to keep her mouth shut."

Ginny chanced a look at her mother. Molly didn't look upset or on the verge of lecturing and her calm expression was all Ginny really needed to see. She smiled. "I wanted to be an Auror," she said. "It was really important to me, after everything I'd been through. And I liked it a lot."

"And you were brilliant at it," broke in Harry. Ginny rolled her eyes and he gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just really proud."

Ginny kissed him. "Me too," she said quietly before turning back to her story. "I've been doing some work with the Quidditch League," she said. "They've had some trouble with what at first seemed to be over-enthusiastic fans, but some their behaviors have gotten more concerning. I was flying with the Harpies, helping make sure none of their equipment had been hexed, and when I landed, Gwenog asked me if I was interested in another try-out. She said she particularly wanted me not only for my flying ability, but my Auror training. I got the offer three days ago and I decided . . . " she looked at Harry. "Actually, _we_ decided, that I should take it." She smiled. "I'm a Harpy."

A/N: And, there you go. I can't believe this is done and that it ended up as long as it did. I never thought I'd have another story like In Case of Emergency in me to write, and although this one felt very different in plot and characterization, my affection for the RC Harry and Ginny is pretty close to how about feel about them in ICE. I so, so appreciate all the support I received, whether in the form of reviews, discussion in the Discord, likes and favorites, and of course, my cheerleader Deadwoodpecker. It feels very good to click the "complete" box. Now back to Servant of Death, which definitely needs some love. And I have another story mapped out in my head. It's a departure for me, so we'll see where it goes. Take care, everyone.


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